Surfaces
by Greened Ink
Summary: It's what lies beneath that matters most. Helen/John angst; kinda twisty dark like they are. Rated M for a reason.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Hmm... let's see. This chapter mentions the events of the episode 'Normandy' and it occurs _before_ the events of the Worth storyline. Maybe somewhere in season two or three, I'm vague on that point. I've tried to stay in canon, but you'll have to tell me if I succeeded. I also make the assumption that Magnus left James' side sometime between 1945, after the meeting with the Nazi High Command and 1951 when she took bullets from the Big Guy, based on what was already set up by the show. My thoughts are that the start of the separation took place sometime shortly after the events of Normandy, based on their reactions during the episode. So I gave it my best shot and apologize if it doesn't turn out to be that way in the show. This chapter is mostly just for set-up. James is in it and mentioned throughout, but don't expect to see much of him beyond this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Prologue: A Hard Goodbye

London, England: June 1944-

Helen Magnus sighed as she shrugged her coat off. She felt drained and saddened, much as she always felt when she saw John but multiplied a thousand times by everything they had just accomplished and endured. She wished that Nigel was still with her. He always knew how to cheer her up. However, she also understood his decision to stay behind in France. If you found someone you wanted to hang onto, she had learned that that was exactly what you had to do. It was dangerous, but she was fairly confident in the ability of the 'Invisible Man' to keep himself from too much harm.

When she had accompanied her injured friend, James Watson, back to London and away from the front lines in Normandy, she had left him briefly to check in with Nikola in Portsmouth, at the headquarters of the Allied Expeditiary Force. She had been waylaid by General Eisenhower for several hours, to report on their mission. Now, she was searching James out again, as he had departed from the hospital she had left him in. Admittedly, she was worried. The journey back from France had been filled with a silence that ached and gnawed at her edges. She supposed in was unavoidable. Though she had no idea what had been said between the two, she knew that James and John had exchanged words, and she knew she had acted a little too desperately when John had been shot. The thrill of fear spiking from her chest into her voice had not gone unnoticed. This was only to be expected since he was one of the most perceptive analytical minds she had ever encountered. She could feel the distance that James had placed back between them. So here she was, in his old home in London where they had not set foot in many years. It did instill an element of calm back into her soul to see the elegance of her dear Britannia again. Even though she knew the respite would not last for long. She was a doctor and doctors were in desperate need everywhere in war-torn Europe. Besides that, she was sure that shortly she would be on the receiving end of another summons from General Eisenhower.

Ethel Linaman still worked here as the maid though she was twenty-seven now and should have vacated her position long ago. It could be because of some sense of loyalty, as Ethel's mother had held the position for many years before her. It made sense that the girl might need the money, though, too. The second World War had so far been long and hard, and everyone looked as waif-like as Helen sometimes felt, especially after seeing John again. She supposed she should just be grateful that the dutiful girl was here. As the honey-haired young woman took the coat and hat from Helen's hands, the thickly accented voice issuing from her mouth asked if she was looking for Dr. Watson and if she needed to be shown to where he was.

Helen declined. She knew why he had come to this place, and it wasn't simply because they were in London again. Therefore, she also knew where to find him.

His drawing room was hushed. The old chairs were still in place, the same dusty old tomes in bookcases lining the walls. His desk had not been moved an inch. The place was relatively clean, thanks to the young Linaman girl, but it still held an air of disuse. The clock on the mantle ticked quietly. As she closed the door behind her, her heart leapt into her throat. This was going to hurt them both and she knew it. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if this was a completely inappropriate time, but if not now, then when? Just because the invasion had worked and the Allied troops were flooding into France, didn't mean that the war was over. With General Eisenhower relying on her expertise and hospitals all over the country to be staffed, she might not get another chance for some years to come. Slowly, her movements measured, she sat in the unoccupied chair beside James, then finally turned slightly to face him.

Her friend was sitting forward, his elbows on his knees. He was staring into space, his expression haunted.

After taking a deep breath, she spoke. "Are you still in pain?" She eyed the device on his chest and the bullet wound in his leg.

He shifted. "I'll be fine."

The hush reasserted itself. Only the tiny, almost indiscernible whine of his body suit occupied the stale air. Hesitation stilled her thoughts again. She knew why she had come in here, but now that she was here, she couldn't make herself say the words.

It was he that saved her the trouble. "You still love him." James said shallowly.

Helen narrowed her eyes at him, her expression kind but unyielding. "As do you."

When the man spoke again, his voice was thick and strangled, as though he was forcing the words past a block in his throat. "We're never going to be rid of him, are we? Even if his wound kills him, his presence will always haunt us."

"He always has." She whispered. She folded her hands in her lap. "James, you always have been and always will be very dear to me. However, we both know we have grown too comfortable with each other. We needed to heal, which necessitated a very close relationship. Even an intimate one, but we both knew that aspect was not a lasting one."

There was a pause, one aching with things going unsaid and the underlying meaning to seemingly even the very breaths they were taking. "I wanted it to be. Hoped." He said softly.

Her answering smile was sad. "As did I. However, the things we have shared; the pain, heartache, betrayal... it is too much to forget. After John... well," She took a deep breath. He was watching her sadly as she laid her soul bare for him to see. "-afterward, I was devastated. My heart was shattered into simply too many pieces, strewn across the floor and everyone could do naught but grind it into dust beneath their heels. They didn't understand, nor could they." It wasn't the first time she had spoken this candidly to him, but she owed this to him, for all that he had done for her. For all that he had tried to do. "You were in a similar state, I know. John was your best friend. You loved him as much as I. We picked up the pieces of each other's hearts because we were unable to pick up that of our own." She smiled at him gratefully, though she knew it could never fully express just how she felt. "You saved me, James."

By his answering smile though, he seemed to think it was enough.

She continued before she lost her nerve. "You showed me that we still were capable of feeling a passion for life. Of having passion _in_ our lives. You spent years giving me unconditional love and tenderness, fitting the shards back together like a jigsaw puzzle. For that, I will be forever grateful."

James hung his head, again seeming to read her mind and understand the double entendre. "And I to you, my dearest Helen."

Her stomach clenched so that her next words were a bit strangled. "We supported one another, James, much like the string and stakes used in a garden. It is necessary for support during the early stages to prevent crooked growth. The same holds true for splints on a broken bone. Leave it attached too long though, and it restricts further growth. I love you, I always shall, but we both know we have grown complacent. We've gotten too used to each other. I am restricting your growth."

His eyes closed on the reality, but he could not ignore it. "And I yours." She could not begrudge him the bitterness of that statement. She felt it herself. "So, what, then?

"We continue on in our efforts in this war till its completion. I have to believe that it will end some day. We've plenty to keep us busy in the coming months. Afterward, well... If we're still alive, I would like you to run the Sanctuary here. You are far too set in your ways to ever leave."

That earned her a chuckle.

She looked around the room, at the familiar surroundings that she would miss. Then at the person she would miss the most. "I will go back to the West, across the ocean. I have- needed a change for quite some time now. I think it will do me good. There are... too many memories here now to stay. As for you and I..." She hesitated again.

"We will remain the dearest of friends and colleagues." His smile was as sad as hers as he set a hand on those folded in her lap. "I hardly know what will become of me though, without you beside me, lover, colleague or anything else."

"I feel the same." She chuckled in mock lightness. "But then, we've known each other for over sixty years. We built this Sanctuary together. My fathers dream could never have been realized without you." She reached up and placed her hand on his arm. "Though I will be an ocean away, you know I shall always come if you call. When you need me, I will be there."

"The same holds true for you, my dear. Forever and always." He took her hand and kissed it.

Helen stood to leave, setting a gentle, caressing palm to his cheek as a silent goodbye. It hurt too much to speak. They both knew there were no words capable of expressing so much in such a narrow space of time, but this contact seemed to say it all. Just before she pulled the door closed behind her though, she heard his voice break the silence once again.

"I hope you find happiness again, Helen."

She couldn't answer, her throat too closed by emotion. The door's click as it closed was loud and echoing in the still air.


	2. Exposure to a Flame

Author's Note: Oh, next chapter. Don't get used to such a quick update, I may be relatively reliable on that front but I already had this written when I posted the prologue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter One: Exposure to a Flame

Old City Sanctuary: 2010-ish

Helen slowly slipped the white glove from her hand, watching numbly as it quietly peeled away from her fingers. The other glove followed the second just as sedately. It had been a long, hard day. She had just performed an autopsy on a Etheroptera, an amazing species of abnormal whose stunted and useless, but incredibly beautiful wings folded into hollows on their backs. This one was a young woman by the name of Silva. Though she had never personally met the woman, she had met the woman's grandfather. It must have been... eighty years ago? Eighty-five? Sometime in the late 1920's when he had emigrated to America. He had only been a teenager at the time.

Twenty-five was definitely too young to be laying stretched out on her autopsy table. The cause of death was an illness common to the species, but one that should not have been life-threatening. Not unless it was compounded by a severe case of treatment-resistant rabies from a bite suffered only two months previous. She had known the details even before she started but still, she had wanted to be sure, just in case the illness had mutated or the rabies had. One couldn't be too careful. Unfortunately, Helen had been conscious for a full forty-eight hours previous with an incident involving a black market smuggler, so to top it off with an autopsy that took ten more hours hadn't been one of her better ideas. The fact that said previous incident had resulted in a rather nasty bruise traveling across her right shoulder-blade down over her spine to her left hip wasn't helping matters either. As things stood, she was having trouble moving at all. Her right hand and arm were feeling almost completely numb now that she was done, and a nerve was being pinched at her hip, causing jolts of pain to go shooting down her left leg. If Will were here, she would be in for a severe scolding.

Taking comfort in the fact that he was not, she slipped off her white lab coat and limped over to the cabinet against the wall. Retrieving several bottles from the shelves, she shook two tablets, a large green pill and a liquid filled capsule into her palm, downed them dryly and slipped the bottles into her pockets. She then left the lab for her rooms. Once there, she got out of her clothes and took a hot shower that was long overdue. That was one thing she really did enjoy about the advancements over the course of her years. As much as she loved the occasional bath, the convenience of a shower just could not be praised enough. She much preferred the pain of the water hitting her bruise than the pain of hauling herself in and out of the bathtub. Finally, she turned off the water and pulled an overlarge towel about herself. It was then that she realized she was not alone.

Spinning quickly, she had her feet planted and fist raised in a defensive posture, ready for whatever new threat had surfaced. The towel she had tucked under her arm slipped just a little, but she ignored it, too shocked to care. The one threat she had truly not been expecting was leaning in the doorway watching her. She straightened a little. "What in bloody hell are you doing in my washroom, John?" She grated around her teeth.

He tilted his head at her. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, Helen." His voice was quiet.

Her glare could have melted steel. "It remains everything you are no longer _allowed_ to see. Why are you here? And I want a straight answer or I shall call for security immediately."

"I'm not even allowed to say hello anymore?" He frowned.

She was not even remotely in the mood for this. In fact, she was tired right down to her bones and achy with both fatigue and the battering she had taken earlier. She pushed past him into her room and grabbed her radio from the small end table where she had set it.

He was there instantly, one hand coming to rest over her own, stopping her from doing anything more.

Helen jerked away and glared at him even harder. "The truth."

A sigh left his lips as they curved just the barest bit in a sad smile and he held his hands out to the side, sketching a bow that might have once been gentlemanly but now only seemed mocking. "Very well. I come bearing a message from a mutual acquaintance who is in need of your assistance. I gave my word that I would deliver it."

Her curiosity officially piqued, she dropped her arm from where she had been holding the radio close to her mouth, ready to follow through on her threat. "Who?"

"Ethel Linaman. " He said, quiet again.

Eyes wide, she strode over to her closet. "What's wrong? What's the message?" She pulled a dress from the closet, one that she could slip on without needing to expose herself before her former fiance.

"Only that there was trouble and that you were needed."

That surprised her. Surely if there was a problem, Ethel would still have remembered to contact the UK Sanctuary. James may be dead, but there were any number of residents and staff that had met the young woman. Helen paused. Old woman by now. Somewhere in her nineties. Stepping into the dress, she pulled it up and slipped her arms inside with a little difficulty, hissing a few times in quiet pain. She finally got to the point where dropping the towel was her only option, but as she tried to zip up the dress, she couldn't help but whimper a little as the pain from her back spiked at the awkward angle she tried to twist her arms into.

Suddenly, hands were there, pushing hers aside. She made to move away, but John's voice growled low. "Let me help, Helen." Before she could try to step away again, John bent a little and breathed on the bare skin of her shoulder. She was effectively frozen, his hot scent sending a shiver down her spine. She clenched her teeth on the yelp that wanted to escape her lips as the movement pulled at her bruise.

It seemed he could tell that something was off and gently took her wet hair in hand and pushed it away over her shoulder so he could see. Then his softly calloused fingers were sliding gently over the bruise, across her shoulder blade, down her spine to the small of her back, going lower still...

Startled, she practically leapt away from his touch, turning to glare at him even as her cheeks heated.

He simply seemed resigned to her reaction, smiling only slightly without humor. "I see you haven't changed much. Still throwing yourself headlong into dangerous situations."

"I see that _you've_ not changed much either, John." She said scathingly.

"The zipper is low, Helen, that is not my fault." His voice held a hint of anger now. He was fast, reaching out and spinning her so that her bare back was to him again. Without lingering this time, he grasped the zipper and slid it up her back.

She hurried out of his reach again.

"I've delivered my message." He bowed again, but this one seemed more genuine and less mocking. It made her heart clench painfully. "With that, I shall take my leave." He went to her door without another word and disappeared through it before she could say anything.

She let out a shaky breath. There wasn't enough time to dawdle now and lingering over the effect of John's entry and the familiar ache of his departure, fell within that context. With the knowledge of this new development, she was very glad she had dismissed the idea of taking sleeping pills to see herself quickly asleep and ensconced in a dreamless coma-like state, for the pills would have been even more unforgiving than her body was being. She fixed her hair as best she could, tying it up in a knot so that it was out of the way and put make-up back on her face. It was a quick matter to slip her shoes on her feet, though her legs very much protested the action. As she stood, she swayed a little before shaking it away and going to find Henry.

In his lab, the HAP was asleep on the stool at his computer. His face was plastered to the table top. Rather than wake him immediately, Helen simply smiled and stared for a minute. To be honest, Henry was the closest thing she had ever had to a son. He had been raised here in the Sanctuary, right alongside her own daughter. She still remembered the time he and Ashley had been brought to her by her old friend, the Sasquatch, both looking sheepish and covered from head to foot in mud. The idea of it still brought a smile to her lips. Occasionally, it was hard to separate this view of him from the knowledge that he was a capable member of her team. The technological aspect of what he did at the Sanctuary was almost second nature for her now to take for granted, but having him insist on going out in the field, just as Ashley had once done, was far less so. She tilted her head. He did look so peaceful when he was sleeping. A gentle hand on his shoulder roused him.

"Oh, Doc, sorry. I was just-" He cut off the spiel from his mouth before it became a flood for which she was grateful.

"Henry, by any chance, did you disable the security system or the EM field for the living quarters last night?"

He blinked. "Yeah, I just took the security system offline for a second earlier to fix the... but I..." He turned to his computer and then finished his statement with his eyes closed. "I... forgot to reactivate it."

"Please see that it is reestablished."

Henry paused. "You asked about the EM field, that doesn't mean..."

"The system, Henry." She reprimanded gently. "And I am in need a flight to the UK, the next one to depart if you can."

"O-kay." He said, drawing out the word unsurely. "Any particular place or reason?"

"The United Kingdom please, Henry, near London."

"Alright, it's just..." Henry hesitated.

Helen just raised an eyebrow at him.

The young man groaned, then continued on as though resigning himself to his fate. "Will's gone and he usually-"

Her patience evaporated just like that. "I do not need a babysitter, Henry."

"Hey, you're the one who said solo missions are usually a bad idea."

"I can handle myself." She answered in all seriousness. Really, how incapable did they all think she was?

"Well, yeah, but-" He winced at the glare she gave him. "If... if Druitt..."

Once more, she just raised a single eyebrow his way.

His shoulders slumped. "He's the chink in your armor. I just thought... that it would be wise to have backup, wherever you're going, whatever you're doing."

Helen looked at him in sudden understanding. "Do you mean... were you trying to offer your accompaniment, Henry?"

The boy looked at her sheepishly. "When it comes to Druitt, you really shouldn't be on your own, Doc. I may just be a tech nerd but I can still have your back."

Her face softened measurably. She laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Two tickets then."

He grinned at her.

"Pack light." She warned as she left the room. Ah, what a softy she was turning out to be. Still, he was correct. On an uncertain mission, with unknown perils, it wasn't wise to go alone. Add John to the mix and she had the distinct impression that she was going to regret not getting sleep when she had the chance.

They disembarked from the plane early that afternoon. During the nine hour plane ride, Helen had managed to sleep for about three. More than enough to keep her going for a while yet if she didn't do anything strenuous. She had already called Declan, head of the UK Sanctuary, to inform him of their unscheduled trip, but had declined his offer of both a car and back up. If she ended up needing it, _then_ she would call. Instead, they immediately got into a cab and she gave the address of James' old home. The building itself had been willed to the Sanctuary network as a whole and was currently housing about fourteen residents. However, it was not to that particular building that she was headed.

After stepping out of the cab, she bypassed the house and went around back, Henry close on her heels. A tiny home, perched on the edge of the property and bursting with vegetation around it, belonged to Ethel Linaman, and had since the death of her mother in 1948.

Helen glanced at her watch. Barely an hour and a half had passed since they left the airport. The day was overcast and the very air felt wet even though the temperature was comfortable. At first glance, nothing appeared amiss. Cautiously, she stepped onto the front path. When nothing occurred, she made her way slowly to the front door. Henry was glancing furtively around them, no doubt picking up on her own heightened anxiety. Taking her hand off the weapon at her hip, Helen knocked. It was a long moment before the door finally opened and then only a crack.

"Yes?" A male voice asked from within, pitched low. The person's face was shrouded in shadows.

"Hello." Helen answered, trying to sound kind and nonthreatening. "I'm Dr. Helen Magnus. I received word from Ms. Linaman, along with a request for assistance."

The door opened wider and Helen understood why the boy had not shown his face. The scaly spots along his neck and under his eyes was a vibrant cobalt blue. He wore a hat that covered the expanse of blue scales on his head. She smiled. It had been some time since she had seen one of his species.

At her unfazed reaction, the door opened wide enough for her and Henry to pass through. The house inside was musty and overheated. A grandfather clock in the hall ticked away the time while the hard wooden floors announced their presence at each step.

"This way, please." The young man said.

Helen followed him silently as he led them through a sitting room and into a dining area where an old woman sat spooning soap into her mouth shakily. Without waiting for an invitation, she sat in the chair next to the woman.

"Helen." The woman intoned, without looking up. "I had hoped you would come." The woman spoke slowly, her voice tremulous with age but still holding the same burr-like accent of her youth.

"John delivered his message, but I'm afraid it was rather vague."

"Of necessity. You don't honestly think I'm stupid enough to give Mr. Druitt any pertinent information, do you? Dr. Watson warned me about him."

Smiling in understanding, Helen sat forward a little. "So, Ms. Linaman, care to inform me as to why I am here?"

The old woman finally set down her spoon and looked up. Her watery eyes regarded Helen sharply, as though assessing something. "You haven't aged much, dear Helen, if at all."

"We all have our little quirks." Helen tried to keep her tone light.

Ethel nodded solemnly. "Dr. Watson spoke of you so often. He said there was no one better suited to get a job done than you. Always said there was no one more determined or capable."

At that, Helen only tilted her head and answered frankly. "He was a good friend."

"Yes, he was. He also said that I could call on you if I ever needed anything. He said you would come if I asked. Something about a promise that you made to him."

"Yes." Helen swallowed. "Well I'm here, Ms. Linaman, and you have yet to answer my question as to why."

"Call me Ethel, Helen. Ms. Linaman makes me sound so old and I'm younger than you are my dear."

"Ethel then." Helen sighed.

"My granddaughter and great-grandson have gone missing, Helen. That is why you are here."

Sitting back, Helen folded her hands in her lap. "Why not call on the Sanctuary itself? Surely you have contacts there that would do anything they could to-"

"You are the best." Ethel interrupted her. "I needed the best."

"I'm hardly more qualified than anyone working at the UK Sanctuary."

Ethel's hand shot out and gripped Helen's arm hard.

Having stayed silently in the background, Henry started forward but came up short when the boy from the door made a hissing growl deep in his chest.

"It's alright, Henry." Helen tried not to wince at the woman's surprisingly strong grip. "Why me, Ethel?"

The woman's eyes were intense and focused on Helen's own. Ethel did not release her hold, but leaned forward slightly so that when she spoke more quietly, Helen could still hear her. "I know about your daughter."

Helen flinched, despite her resolve.

"I face much the same thing." Finally, her hand released Helen's arm. "My grandchildren are in danger. I know they are. You are the only one I could think of that would not laugh my beliefs away like they were simply the prattlings of an old woman."

"And what are your beliefs?"

"My granddaughter is too much like I was. Bombs dropping all around us and I couldn't make myself leave the charge I had been entrusted with. Dr. Watson always meant too much to me." Ethel picked back up her spoon and took another sip of the soup that still steamed before her. "Lillian would not listen when she was told it was too dangerous to go. She said she had an obligation to see it through. That son of hers, Peter, wouldn't hear of staying behind either."

Unable to help it, Helen could feel her stomach sink. She could guess what was coming next.

"They said there was no hope. Refused to send someone after them when they went missing."

"By 'they', you mean the Sanctuary, don't you?" Henry asked from where he leaned against the wall.

Ethel shot him a glance, but quickly turned back to her food. "They wouldn't even try."

"Ethel..." Helen shook her head. The old woman's hand slamming down on the table startled her.

"They aren't dead!"

Once again on the alert, Henry settled down at the gesture of calm Helen sent his way. She was watching Ethel closely, wondering if this was indeed a case of people ignoring the facts, or if the old woman was just too distraught to see the situation for as hopeless as it was. She had been there. Felt that all consuming need to believe there was still a chance. Perhaps Ethel was right to call on her, for she truly did understand how that burned at your insides. Was there anyone more suited to the task? Perhaps, but who else would give the woman's hope an actual, thoughtful consideration? Making up her mind, Helen sat forward again, resting one arm on the table. "Why don't you start from the beginning, Ethel, and then I'll decide for myself if you need my help or not."


	3. On the Move

Author's Note: I am not from Scotland. I apologize now if I've gotten the topography wrong. Sorry the genre of this fic keeps changing too, I just cannot make up my mind what to leave it at. Supernatural seems like a pretty safe bet, but the other keeps wanting to change with every chapter I write.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Two: On the Move

"Are we really doing this?" Henry asked as they traveled down the steps, trying to keep his voice low since they were still so close to the building.

"I'm not sure yet, Henry. While I'm leaning toward not, I've a responsibility to check every avenue." She climbed back into the cab, scooting sideways so that he could sit beside her. Then, she directed the cab not far from the UK Sanctuary.

"Do you really?" Henry asked once the car started moving.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, we know most of the people that work at the Sanctuary here, personally. They aren't the type to just write off two missing people, especially friends of Doc Watson."

"I realize that, Henry, which is partially why I haven't come to a decision yet. However, I hesitate to dismiss Ethel's concerns or beliefs. She was fiercely loyal to James and very helpful to the Sanctuary during the war."

"The... war? You mean-"

"The Second World War, Henry. If there is even a chance that Lilian and Peter are alive..." She left the rest of the sentence unspoken, seeing by his expression that he understood. "I'll be speaking to Declan immediately once we arrive. If you would drop off my things in my room, you may have the rest of the day, and possibly tomorrow, to yourself. I know how much you were looking forward to playing your video games with Christopher."

Henry grinned. "Oh, that guy's so going down."

She chuckled.

It wasn't hard to walk the two blocks to the Sanctuary, passing through the gate without so much as a pause. They had obviously seen her coming and she was grateful for the expediency her position and reputation provided. After passing her two small bags to Henry, she found Declan waiting for her.

"Dr. Magnus." The boy said with a respectful nod of his head. They fell into step next to each other, heading for his office at a quick but even pace.

"How are things going?" She asked with a polite smile.

"Well enough." He answered. "We had a bit of a scuffle with the new Hydra in from Italy, but you feed the head that's conscious and it settles down pretty quickly." There was a bit of a pause. "Are you going to tell me why you're here now, Magnus?"

"Cheek? Come, come, I return to my dear London and this is the welcome I receive?" She answered with a mischievous grin. "I was born here over a hundred years before you were, thank you. Perhaps I just wanted to reminisce. I'm entitled to my privacy, aren't I?"

His tilted smile and the shake of his head only made her smile widen. "You can keep your secrets if you want, but if you're after an abnormal and find yourself hurt and alone don't blame me if you haven't got backup."

She laughed, waving a hand between them. "Enough, enough. I'm only in need of a debriefing on the Linaman incident."

Declan's expression immediately darkened. "So that's it, then? Ethel contacted you."

"You knew she probably would." She answered. "Please don't take this as my having anything but absolute faith in you and your people, Declan, I just need to be sure. The report?"

He nodded. "I'll get it for you."

Having reached the office, Helen took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs next to the fire place. It tore at her heart a little to again see the place she could only describe as James' office. That would always be the only name for it; the only way she could think of it. The office of James Watson, head of the UK Sanctuary. She shifted slightly and cleared her throat.

"Here you are." Declan said, handing the file over with a grimace. "For all the good it'll do you."

She gave him a look.

He sighed and half-sat, half-leaned on his desktop. "Lilian Matherson, age thirty-one. Dark blonde hair, slight but strong build, wearing a red knit sweater, gray cap, and black trousers. Disappeared almost a month ago, along with her son, Peter Matherson, age ten. He had dark sandy hair not unlike his mother's but a stockier build and was last seen wearing a blue coat and jeans. As you know, Lilian was always involved in the Sanctuary, usually helping out on specific cases where the simple act of acceptance would go a long way."

"Much like her grandmother."

Declan nodded sadly. "She got involved in a case with a Ferabore, named Titus. The Ferabore community have a colony west of Fort William, in the Grampian Mountains, the Lochaber area of the Scottish Highlands. Titus was having trouble and needless to say, after the move here he needed a friend. The boy, Peter, got really attached to him. They started doing a lot of things together. In an attempt to get his sister to move here as well, Titus returned to Scotland, promising to come back, but after less than month he sent back word that he wouldn't be returning. Peter was devastated. Then all contact with Titus was severed. Lilian thought it was too fishy and tried to get the others to tell her what was going on. The colony is close-knit though. They're isolated and don't welcome questions or visitors."

"Lilian knew her attempt to help Titus by going there would be ill advised." Helen assumed.

"After she still couldn't get anything with her attempts at communication, she decided actually going there was her only option. We all tried to warn her. Ferabore's are not known for their control, and hostility could turn dangerous for anyone at the wrong end of it. However, she insisted that Titus wouldn't simply not return and cut off all contact. She felt that something was wrong and went to investigate."

"At which point, she and her son both went missing."

Declan sighed. "There was no reason to send anyone with her. More unwelcome guests would only make her efforts more difficult. After we lost contact, we sent a search party. Talked with all the residents in the community, which I can tell you was not an easy task. There was nothing. Not a sign of them. We searched the surrounding mountains and countryside as best we could, but after a while with still no leads, there wasn't much point in continuing."

Nodding slowly, Helen pulled the file to her chest and stood. "You did well. Would it be all right if I had access to your maps and search data?"

He sighed. "Of course."

"Thank you." She slid from the room, making her way through the halls to the room she had been provided with. It was very comfortable, equipped with a fire-place and a small settee along with the bed. She felt poorly that the occupant had been rousted, but not so much that she was willing to insist on a change. After a moment of contemplation, she shrugged off her jacket, slipped her shoes off and climbed onto the bed. It would take some time for the data to be compiled for her use, there was no reason why she couldn't use the time to catch up on her sleep. She pulled the small blanket at the foot of the bed up and over herself, settled on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

The smell of tea woke her. Her eyes felt gummy and tired. She had known that it was not a good idea to sleep without removing her make-up and while still in her clothes, but couldn't have expended the effort to change or wash before sleeping even if she had wanted to. Groggily, she lifted her head.

"Dr. Magnus, I'm sorry to wake you, but I've brought the data you requested." A smiling face greeted her. At least, she thought the girl was smiling. It was difficult to tell with the tentacles near the girl's mouth. The tea on the tray that had just been set down was steaming gently.

Helen felt a grumble in her stomach. "That's perfectly all right. Thank you for the tea." She glanced at the clock on the small nightstand, noting that the hours had slipped well into the evening. "I wasn't expecting to sleep for so long anyway."

"Jet lag effects can be unpredictable."

Yes, that was definitely a kind smile. Helen returned it and slipped her feet to the floor. A fire had already been lit and the soft carpet kept the chill of stone from her soles.

"My name is Sara. If you need anything else, please let me know, Dr. Magnus."

Helen nodded, waiting till the door closed and she was alone to stand. After she actually shrugged off the effects of sleep, she found that she felt immensely better. She had needed the sleep. The bruise on her back was all but healed, or at least it wasn't giving her any more pain. Her rate of recovery had always been high. Slowly, she sat on the settee, and fixed herself a cup of the comforting liquid. Drinking down several careful swallows, she snagged one of the small sandwiches from the plate upon the tray. _Now_ she was ready to get to work. For the next several hours, she correlated the data with maps of the region, all sightings, notes and even recent weather reports. Proud of the thoroughness of her people, she utilized every scrap of information until her map had a comprehensive system of marked areas and colored borders, along with notes and memos around the edges. It took a lot of work, but she thought the outcome was very helpful. Based on the information, she saw that no stone had gone unturned in their search. Every known avenue had been covered. The only possibility seemed to be an unknown, perhaps a variable they didn't or couldn't take into account. There wasn't really anything she could do, at least from here. Even if she went, there didn't seem to be any way that she could help. She thought about calling it. However, the memory of Ethel Linaman's eyes, pleading with her, would not leave her alone. In all, she supposed it wouldn't hurt anything for her to take a few more days and double check. A Helicopter ride to the heliport off the coast of Scotland, a quick ferry ride ashore to Fort William, take a car as far as they could past Achriabhach, and then hike the rest of the way. They would look around, ask a few more questions and if nothing came of it, she would do the only left that she could do. Give Ethel her condolences. Frankly though, that seemed to be all that she could provide lately was condolences and it was beginning to grate on her nerves. 'I'm sorry' had become a codeword for helplessness. Another way of saying that there was nothing anyone could do. She nodded absently, deciding that anything would be worth not having to say those damnedable words again.

That decided, she stretched and looked at the clock. Time had gotten away from her again. It was the wee hours of the morning. Her eyes were gritty sandpaper, ready for another rest, so she got ready for bed and left the actions for the morning.

"I mean, come on, the guy has eight fingers on each hand."

Helen smiled at Henry quickly before returning her eyes to the road. "Yes, but you knew that going in." She shook her head. "Unfair advantage or not, Henry, you _are_ the one who agreed to play games with Christopher."

"Would've kicked his a- butt, too." Henry shot her a quick embarrassed glance. "I wouldn't have minded really, but he doesn't have to be such a jerk about it."

She winced. "He did boast a bit more than necessary. I suspect he was simply trying to impress Shaza."

"Yeah, the dude's obsessed but... come on." Henry scowled and made a fierce gesture at the windshield.

"Still, there was no need to smack him quite so hard. You almost gave the poor boy a concussion."

"He was fine...-ish."

Helen just gave him a disapproving look and as he melted down into his seat a little grumpily, she maneuvered the vehicle to the side of the road. She peered out into the drizzle. "Time to start hiking. We take this road any further south and we'll be well out of the area we need to be searching."

"Do we really have to hike through that?" He pulled a face. "I just barely got dry from the spray off the ferry."

"You could always wait here if it makes you too uncomfortable." She answered with a small smile.

"I met a Ferabore once. Letting you go to a whole town full, alone? I don't think so."

"Then grab your things, Henry, we don't want to run out of daylight before we arrive at the village." She followed her own advice, stepping from the car and grabbing her pack to sling about her shoulders.

"You call this daylight?" Henry said above the sound of the rain.

A glance upward showed only gray sky and darker clouds slowly boiling from the horizon. She tilted her head and finally shrugged his way. "Let's go."

They navigated via GPS, heading north and further east through slightly mountainous terrain where achingly green grass sported rocks every few feet. The hills mostly to their left rolled in seemingly endless waves. There was not an inch of flat surface and soon, Henry complained he was getting a little seasick. They rested for a bit, Helen herself feeling the effects of the nausea inducing up and down motion. The drizzle dropped away, at least temporarily. Once they started again, they mostly skirted any actual steep inclines, but at a certain point changed their heading and were soon surrounded by the rocky slopes jutting into the sky. The village lay nestled in a small valley, tiers of crops descending the walls like a giants stepladder. Buildings were mostly few and far between farmhouses, but a small clump of buildings lay together at the most eastern portion of the valley. It was among these that they first entered, glancing around from place to place a little uneasily.

There was no one about as far as she could see, creaking wood and a few bird songs the only sounds. The call of a sheep in the distance seemed unnaturally loud, echoing off the canyons walls. Spotting the only building that looked like it was open to guests, a public house, Helen strode to it and went in. A small bar lined the right side of the room, with a few tables off to the other. It was almost cramped but warm and dry thankfully. A few patrons sat around the room, each with a cup before them and their faces hidden. The bartender was wearing a scarf that wrapped around his mouth, so that mostly only his eyes were visible. He didn't look up as she approached.

"Excuse me." She said politely. "We're here looking for two of our friends, Lilian and Peter Matherson? I believe some of my colleagues already asked you some questions?"

The man just grunted.

"I'm afraid we need to ask you a bit more." She persisted.

"What for?" The man's voice was raspy and deep, issuing from his mouth like a train slowly pulling from the station.

"Just trying to be thorough."

"You were." There was hint of irritation in his voice.

"Yes, well, not thorough enough it seems, since my friend is still missing."

Finally the man peeked a glance at her and a quick one at Henry who was standing silently behind her. The eye bared to her sight reflected back the dim lighting like a black opal. Reds and greens, along with startling blues and a flash of yellow was all she could glimpse before the gaze was shuttered to the bar top again."Thought she were a colleague."

"Not of mine." Helen answered. "Actually, she is the granddaughter of a good friend I have known for many years. I was asked to lend my eyes and ears to the situation and that is exactly what I intend to do, with or without the aid of the Ferabore community."

At that, every eye in the bar was turned on her and Henry, a sea of black refracting rainbows their way. Their faces became visible and the fur under the sockets was thick and dark colored browns and blacks.

Behind her, Helen heard Henry nervously swallow a little. "I mean you no harm or ill will. I can assure you that I would not be here intruding on your privacy if the situation were any less dire. However, a young woman and her child, a small boy, have gone missing. Your help would be appreciated, but if it is too much to ask, I understand and we will find a way to manage on our own." She turned away back to the door, Henry scuttling out of her way, but was stopped by a deeper voice.

"Wait."

Looking back, she saw a young female Ferabore half-risen from her seat at a table. A glance around told Helen the others were uncomfortable with the situation, but unwilling to interfere. None of them stopped her as she passed back to the table the girl was at.

"Sit, please." The girl lowered her voice to barely a whisper, the deep bass seeming incongruous with her meek demeanor.

"Thank you." Helen sat, Henry beside her, and folded her hands together in her lap. "You have some information for us?"

"Sorta." The girl answered. "Well, Titus, he said that you folks from the Sanctuary was alright."

"You know Titus?" Henry asked.

"It's a small community, Henry." Helen answered.

The girl's eyes fell to the table top. "Yeah, but you see, Titus... he was me brother."


	4. Leaping In

Author's Note: Thank you so much melissaadams22 and Besilea for your wonderful reviews! I always appreciate them. So, here's the next chapter. It's a longer one, just for you guys.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Three: Leaping In

"Was?" Helen asked gently, catching onto the girl's past tense.

"After he... he left, I wasn't supposed to be talkin' to him no more. But he was me only family and his letters- they said things like 'Terra, you'd love it here' and 'Peter wants to meet ya so badly'."

"Your name is Terra?" Helen kept her voice soft, the sadness rolling off the girl seeming almost palpable.

"Yeah." Terra looked up, as though embarrassed.

"My name is Helen Magnus, this is Henry Foss." She gestured at Henry. "Can you tell us what happened to Titus and our friends?"

The girl's head bowed further. "Titus, he came talking about all the things he'd seen and the friends he'd made, but that... it didn't mean much without me there to share them with. Tried to talk me into going with him but Lero wouldn't hear of it."

"Lero?"

"He's the leader round these parts. He's... not the sort that'd be open to questions." Terra's eyes darted to the bartender.

Surreptitiously, Helen did the same and saw the man glaring their way. She guessed that he was Lero. "Did Lero say anything threatening to Titus?"

Terra ducked her head again. "Just that he shoulda never come back. That if he wanted to leave, he shoulda stayed gone." Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Titus said he weren't leavin' without me again."

"What happened to your brother, Terra?" Helen asked softly.

Shaking her head, Terra mumbled into her shirt. "I don't know. He was here, but then, he was just gone."

"And Lilian? Peter?"

Terra scrubbed at her cheeks. "They came lookin' fer him. I told the boy what I told you."

"Our colleagues that were here asking questions didn't speak to you?"

"I... I was told to stay away from 'em."

Helen sat back a little. "When was the last time you saw Titus?"

"He was headed fer Glen Hanserd's. He used to be Titus' best mate. Glen said he never showed."

"Where does Mr. Hanserd live?"

"Other side of the village, about a half hour walk. The small farmhouse near the wall what looks like a turtle."

Nodding, Helen stood. "Terra, if we have more questions, where might we find you?"

"I live down the street with Widow Seap. The little blue cottage." Terra mumbled, bowing her head once again.

Helen laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "Thank you."

"It really does look like a turtle." Helen remarked, tilting her head to the side.

"Yeah, with the shed as the head poking out." Henry said beside her. They were standing in the dirt road, looking at the house in the fading light. "I can see it. The patchwork on the roof even makes it look like the same texture as a turtle's shell. The green moss between the stones helps too."

"This must be it then." She said decisively, pushing open the small wooden gate and making her way to the door. Her knock wasn't loud but it was answered almost immediately.

The door opened and a man looked out at them. The fur under his eyes was a dark shade of brown, approaching black. "Yeah?"

"Dr. Helen Magnus and my associate, Henry Foss." She introduced herself, nodding politely. "Mr. Hanserd?"

"What do ya want?" The Ferabore asked suspiciously.

"We're are here investigating the disappearance of Lilian Matherson and her ten year old son, Peter as well as Titus, whom I believe you know."

Hanserd's face fell a little. "Titus and me grew up together. We was close." He looked at the ground.

"I understand you must be feeling sad and resentful of the intrusion, but any help you can provide me in helping to find my friends, and perhaps Titus as well, would be greatly appreciated."

The man's face scrunched up in uncertainty. Nervously, he stuck his head further out and looked around, then gestured them past him into the house.

Helen edged around him and entered the tiny building. A living room with a ratty old couch, a small kitchenette with a stove, and a closed door leading to another room, made up its entirety.

"Can I get ya coffee er tea?"

Unable to suppress it, Helen left out a relieved sigh. "Tea would be lovely, thank you Mr. Hanserd." She sat gingerly on the couch and tried not to wince as Henry thumped heavily down next to her. The thing didn't look particularly sturdy.

Hanserd gave her a brief and subdued smile. "You can call me Glen, if ya want. I guess you haven't had much of a reception here."

"We have had our troubles, but Terra took pity on us at the public house."

"Public house?" He asked, giving her a confused look.

"She means the bar." Henry translated flippantly.

"Oh." Glen smiled a little more warmly. "Yeah, that's Terra. She's a kindhearted soul."

"Shame that she has lost her brother." Helen said kindly. "She obviously loves him a great deal."

"He's her only family." He shrugged. The teakettle, already on the heat, began to whistle shrilly. Glen poured them each a cup and handed it to them before taking a seat himself.

"To that end, what can you tell us about Titus' disappearance? Is it normal behavior for him?"

"To vanish and leave poor Terra with naught? Not even a word of goodbye? Titus wouldn't do that, not in a million years."

"So when he went missing, you really had no idea where he might have gone?"

Glen appeared to hesitate. "Not really, no, but..."

"But?" Helen pressured.

"H-He was having troubles with Lero."

"Your leader?" Henry asked.

"Yeah. Being right stupid about it too."

Helen tilted her head. "How do you mean?"

Shrugging sullenly, Glen took a swallow of his tea. "Was like he was gunnin' fer a fight. Kept getting' in Lero's face about everything, sayin' that he weren't here to be bullied no more. That if Terra wanted ta come live with him, he hadn't any right to say say she couldn't."

"Why was Lero so against her going, anyway?" Henry asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Seems like it would have got rid of his headache a lot easier if he had."

"Lero doesn't like the thought of the younger generations going out. Says we'll lose our community if we just let it happen. 'S dangerous to leave anyhow. And Terra... Lero has her in mind to marry his son, Jamie."

Helen nodded her head thoughtfully. It explained the hostility toward Titus from his own people. Influential leaders can have a lot of sway in a hive mentality. Just look at Hitler. Sure, that was an extreme case, but the principal still applied. Clearly they would have to watch out for this Lero. After taking a sip of her tea, she looked Glen in the eyes. "And Lilian and the boy?"

"They seemed like good people when they came to talk to me. I spend most of me time in the hills with the animals, so they came to me in the north field and asked me lots of questions. Told them the same thing I told Terra. He never showed that night and I haven't seen him. After that, she and the lad left. Never heard from 'em again."

"The north field." Helen mused. "Could I persuade you to show me exactly where, Glen? It could prove very helpful."

The Ferabore looked between the two of them. "I suppose."

She set down her tea cup. "Thank you." Now they were getting somewhere. She stood, causing Henry to jump to his feet quickly.

"It's not a good idea to wander the hills at night round here." Glen said nervously. "We should wait till tomorrow." He went to the window. "Besides, it's raining again."

Glancing out the window at the downpour that had started up again, Helen sighed. "That would be wise. I don't suppose your village has an inn?"

"Sorta. Lero's got some rooms, but he only lets 'em ta people visiting from the outlaying farms."

She looked at Henry.

"Ugh, I hate tents." He groaned without her having to say a word.

"You could sleep here." Glen gestured at the ratty couch. "I got plenty of blankets and some extra pillows."

"That would be very kind of you." She said. "Are you sure we wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience?"

Glen half smiled. "Can't let a lady sleep outside now, can I? You can even have me bed, if ya want."

She held up her hand. "No, please, that would be too much. I'm very appreciative of the couch, I assure you."

The Ferabore turned to Henry. "You can sleep on the floor, or the shed has some soft bags."

Henry shot her a quick look. "Floor's good for me." He smiled tightly.

Despite how tired she felt, Helen found herself laying awake well into the night, listening to the sounds of Henry breathing slowly in his sleep on the floor next to her. It wasn't that the couch was uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was quite soft. As long as she stayed turned slightly on her side, the board didn't even press into her back. Glen disappeared into his room after seeing them settled and hadn't made a single sound since. The rain had faded away again, leaving only water to make soft plops as it slid from the eaves. The house settled with audible ticks and groans. However, even this wasn't what kept her awake. It was the uneasy feeling she had felt settle over her like a thick woolen blanket. Her racing mind wasn't helping either, really, trying to sort through all the information they had. It was like having several pieces to a jigsaw puzzle. Interesting, but still missing too many to fit them all together or to know what was still missing that you needed to find.

A sound made her start in surprise. It didn't fit with the night sounds permeating the air. She sat up. The night was too dark outside to cast any shadows inside, but she still sensed movement beyond the glass of the small window. Slowly, she reached into the pack she'd left by her head and pulled out her gun. As quietly as possible, she slid the blankets away and set her bare feet on the floor. Her nightgown she'd pulled on in the small bathroom earlier unbunched and the hem slid down almost to the floor, brushing her ankles. Her hair, braided over one shoulder, tickled her jaw as she edged to the door, gun raised. She paused next to it, listening. Finally, she softly turned the handle. It creaked a little as it swung open. Sticking her head out, she looked around. The dim light of stars was the only thing to see by, so she came out further to see and slid the door closed, careful to keep her gun ready.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed hers and twisted, effectively keeping her from pulling the trigger as her arm followed it's movement and pushed up against her chest. Just as fast, a hand pressed over her mouth to still her yell for Henry. Instead, only a quiet grunt left her as she was shoved against the wall. A scent pervaded her nostrils.

Anger replacing the spike of fear, Helen struggled against the grasp. When she started though, she was almost immediately released. Simply breathing for a moment, she glared into the shadows at the dark form. "John!" She grated in a harsh whisper. "Bloody hell! What do you think you're doing? Why are you here?" Rubbing her now aching wrist, she moved further away from the door. She didn't want Henry rushing out here.

"I couldn't very well have you shooting me, now could I?" He said softly, following her.

She spun to face him. "Why are you here?"

"You don't honestly think that I would simply accept to deliver dear Ethel's cryptic message without investigating further?"

"That doesn't answer my question." She stepped closer. "You didn't need to come here to find out what was going on, or for what reason we were coming here. So, why?"

John smiled slightly down at her. "Can you think of no reason?"

"Nothing comes to mind." She growled through her clenched teeth.

He just chuckled softly. "Perhaps I just wish to help."

She scoffed. It was rude of her, but her wrist was still smarting and she wasn't inclined to make the effort with him right now. Not to mention she was still upset with him for coming into her washroom, where he could see her, without her permission.

He stepped into her personal space, his face getting so close to hers she could feel his breath on her cheek. "Admit it, part of you is pleased to see me."

Rather than back up, she put her palms flat against his chest and shoved.

Frustratingly, he just laughed quietly as he stumbled back.

She turned for the door back into the house.

"Now, Helen, don't you want the information I possess? Surely you won't turn away help when a young woman and child's lives hang in the balance?"

She froze.

He chuckled again toward her back. "I can be quite useful."

Trying desperately to control herself, she turned back tightly to face him. "It makes little difference if you are here for your own purposes, ones that come out to cause us more trouble in the end than that which you have saved us. Of which I have little doubt."

His arms spread wide, humor gone. "I am not Tesla. I don't always have an agenda. Ethel helped me once, I owe her. You are well aware I do not like having debts."

Closing her eyes, she breathed out a sigh, frustration and fatigue making it quake slightly. "Then tell me the information and go."

"I don't think so." John shook his own head as she looked at him. His arms lifted in a gesture around at the entire area. "Can't you feel it? That apprehension?"

She blinked, then looked around at the dark valley around them. "You feel it too?"

He nodded, looking around as well. "It's almost palpable." His gaze returned to her, stonily serious. "Three people have gone missing already, including a local who grew up in this area. Do you really want to be next? Or your young Henry?"

A quick glance back at the door showed no sign of movement. She tried to size John up. He seemed sincere. Whether he was being truthful or not, the knot that had settled in her stomach wasn't letting the uneasiness escape her mind. Something was wrong, something she was ill prepared to handle, with only she and Henry here. That, and John seemed determined, while she still needed the information he possessed. At the moment, it was like they were still searching around blindly in the dark. Even after the things they had been told, she and Henry weren't any closer to finding their missing people. By the slight tilt of his head, John knew it too.

"If- and I stress- _if_ I allow you to come with us, will you listen to what I tell you?"

He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, smiling. "Your wish shall be my command."

Her traitorous heart sped up and her skin flushed hotly. Despite her misgivings, he would be useful in their endeavors. She took her hand back quickly with a shake of her head, her breath a sigh. "Very well. Now tell me what you know."

Looking her up and down, from her shifting feet to her slightly chattering teeth, John gestured at the house. "Get some sleep. I'll inform you in the morning."

"John-" She started exasperatedly.

He cut her off. "Helen, it's cold out here. If I know weather at all, it will soon be raining once again. Go inside." His voice softened. "I'll be here when you awaken."

Twisting her mouth in distaste for the fact that he was correct, it was freezing out here in only a nightdress and her bare feet, she hesitantly made for the door. What he had said was no doubt meant to reassure her, but it remained a part of what she was afraid of. It scared her that when he stepped close, her chest still constricted like it used to. That fear, pain, and bitterness could mingle so fluidly with desire, longing, and tenderness. Love and hate, spinning like a pinwheel in a high wind. How could one man's scent still fog her mind so completely? If he was here, how would she ever be able to think clearly? She certainly wouldn't be able to turn her back on him. She opened the door silently and slid it closed on the chill nighttime air outside. Unpredictable was the understatement of the century when it came to John Druitt.

"They came to see you here?" Helen asked, stepping onto the green grass of the field.

Glen eyed John uncertainly. "Few steps in, but yeah."

She moved obligingly forward and then turned to her companions. Henry stood behind John, keeping him in front of him and an eye pointed his way. Frankly, John was bearing it rather well. He hadn't threatened the young HAP since this morning when they had argued about whether John should be coming with them. Henry had protested, but when John said he had found a witness who had seen Titus the night of his disappearance, she couldn't afford to keep him out of it. Finding the missing people was more important than Henry's comfort, or her own, for that matter. "Do you remember which way they headed when they left you?"

The Ferabore's brow scrunched up. "Uh, that way, I think." He pointed south and east.

She frowned. That was the way back toward the town, or at least the edge of it. John said the witness saw Titus heading north, rather than west toward the house they had just left. Could he have been coming here, checking to see it Glen was still in the field? Turning, she traced the way they had come with a single finger. "Glen, do you always take the west road and then head north when you come here?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. Old Mealer used to own that field. Ran me out with a cleaver when I was a lad. Haven't set foot there since."

"Did Titus ever have a similar experience?"

"Nah, not that I know of. Why?"

There was a pause before she spoke. "If I was headed here or back to town, unaccompanied, I would cut across that field every time." She answered, her voice quieter as she looked around, pondering.

"You think there's something about the field?" Henry asked, taking his eyes away from John for the first time to peer that way.

"Perhaps they simply wandered off." John mused.

Henry made a face. "I can see the edge of the village from here. There's nowhere to get lost, even in the dark."

"Did I suggest they didn't do so on purpose?" John answered dryly.

"Enough." Helen looked between the two males who were glowering at each other, John with a bit of a smirk tilting his lips. "Our first step should be to follow theirs. So, let's go." She led the way, pulling Henry away from his staring contest until he actually started to follow on his own. The day was as overcast as it had been yesterday and the smell of wet vegetation permeated the chill air. Dressed in her boots, with thick pants and her tan coat, she was comfortable despite the water seeping in as she brushed up against long grasses.

At the edge of the field, Glen stopped and assured them he would wait for them there.

She nodded her thanks to him and continued, pushing through the crop that came up to her thighs. "Keep your eyes open for anything unusual." They moved even farther into the dense field.

"Unusual like what?" Henry asked, then promptly disappeared. One minute he was there, the next he was gone, Helen barely turning in time to see his hair vanish underneath the crop.

"Henry!" She cautiously waded towards where he had been.

"Careful Helen." John practically growled his warning.

"Henry?" She edged closer, looking down and finding a small hole down through the top and subsoil.

"Yeah." A quavery voice came from the black space. "I'm here."

"Are you alright?" She knelt near enough to look down. It was too dark to make out anything.

"Not really, but I'm pretty sure I'll live." His tone was lightly whining with a hint of teasing, a sure sign that he wasn't badly injured. A flashlight suddenly turned on below. "I'm in some sort of cave. Looks like it might be a tunnel. Goes off in both directions."

"It could lace under this entire field." John said. Beside her, he crouched and fingered the edge of the hole.

"Made in rock?" She questioned Henry, speaking loudly so that he could hear her.

"The floor feels and looks like stone, but the walls are a combination. Hey Magnus, do you think our missing people could have fallen in a hole like this one?"

Brow furrowing, Helen shared a look with John. "Could be, but I see no reason why Lilian couldn't have lifted Peter out and had him run for help."

"Perhaps they were injured, or fell farther then he did." John said, looking around.

"So what do we do?" Henry called up.

"First, we get you out of there and make sure you aren't injured. John?" She gestured into the hole.

Hemming in acknowledgment, John jumped in without hesitation, then almost instantly was standing by the hole again in a flash of red, holding Henry by one arm.

She hurried over and looked the HAP over carefully. Besides a coating of dirt and mud, a few scrapes and a rather nasty bruise on his hip, he was none the worse for wear.

"What's second?" Henry asked breathlessly, shaking his head shaggily to dislodge some of the dirt from his hair.

"Second, is to inform Glen of our discovery, then investigate the cave system."

Head hung, Henry grumbled so quietly she could barely hear him. "Caves. Why is always dark caves? And why do we always have to go _in_ them?"

She smiled, not unsympathetically.

Helen landed with a softly expelled breath, stumbling a little as she did so. John caught and steadied her. She turned on her own flashlight to add to John's and Henry's light, illuminating the cave in the bright glow. Nodding to John, she gave his arm a squeeze of thanks and released it.

He turned away to examine the rock walls on either side. "Looks like mostly granite and quartzite." He stooped and touched the floor. "Smooth. Like it's been worn away."

"Worn by underground waterways?" She asked, crouching beside him.

"Possible." Was his only response.

She stood. "Alright gentleman. Right?" Her flashlight lit the way. "Or left?" It swung to the other side.

"Ladies choice." John said amiably.

After a moment of getting her bearings via the hole in the ceiling, Helen choose the left, which sloped down toward the east where the majority of the field remained. She led the way, walking slow as the slope increased and they went deeper underground. They walked in silence, flashlights continuously scanning every crevice even as the tunnel narrowed so that they could barely squeeze past and widened till the ceiling was far above their heads. They ran into many junctures where another tunnel either branched off or connected. A few times they even saw holes in the ceiling above them, but most not even close to being wide enough for a human to fit through. She kept them heading relatively east, hoping they might find any trace of the missing people, but as they continued, it began to sink in that it was very unlikely. Even if Lilian and Peter fell down here, they could have come in anywhere. She and her companions had gone past the boundaries of the field a while ago.

Just as she was about to suggest they head back and get a proper search team down here, she spotted something on the floor. Bending down, she picked it up and looked it over. "A torch." She said, holding it for them to see.

Henry took the flashlight from her and fiddled with it. "Out of batteries. Hasn't been here too long. They must have dropped it on their way through."

"Why come this way though?" John asked, looking around them.

"They _were_ searching for Titus. Perhaps they had reason to believe he came this way." She reasoned. "Either way, to be completely frank, Lilian and Peter are our top priorities. We should focus on finding them first, then worry about Titus." Standing once again, she continued on down the tunnel. It dipped lower again and this time she noticed a definite change in the temperature. The air became colder and heavier. The walls glistened damply and bits of roots and moss grew in a few cracks, mostly on the ceiling where it was mostly earth rather than rock. There was no way of knowing which way the two would have gone once they reached another juncture, but until then, she would just have to hope there would be another sign once she and her companions reached it.

Then, her light reflected off something back toward her. The walls of the cave slanted out a little and the ceiling sloped up further. She paused in the open space for a second, then cautiously approached what was reflecting. A pool of water, clear and dark, disappeared into the corner of the floor on the other side of the open area where the ceiling met the floor. Beside it were two packs, one far smaller than the other and a pile of clothes. Nudging the pile with the toe of her boot, Helen judged it to be three sets. A man's, woman's, and child's. "Looks as though we found where our people disappeared to."

"Why the hell would they have gone into the water?" Henry asked in disbelief.

"Obviously, this Lilian is not easily daunted." John chuckled.

Eying the pool, Helen shrugged off her bag. "Either way."

"Are we really going in there?" Henry asked incredulously.

"We haven't much of a choice, Henry. Lilian and the boy have been missing for quite some time. Obviously something has kept them from returning. Who knows whether they are alive or dead. Or how long they will remain living if they_ are_ still alive. Every moment counts at this juncture." She stripped off her coat and shoes. Then her outer pants and shirt followed, leaving her only in a dark black tank top and shorts. On the other side of the pool, John was doing the same, all the way down to his shorts. She tried not to stare at his exposed skin.

As a distraction, she turned back to Henry. "If you're uncomfortable going in, you can wait here. With no diving experience, it would be markedly safer for you."

He looked at the pool again, over to John, and then back at her. "You sure?"

"Quite, Henry." She tightened her belt back around her hips, with light and knife firmly attached to it. "We've no idea what we may encounter, or even if this waterway leads anywhere. If we aren't back in ten hours, it would be best to have someone to go for help."

He shifted nervously and spoke in an undertone. "What about Druitt?"

She glanced at John, who was attaching his own belt, then back at her friend. "It'll be alright. If something goes wrong, John will be able to teleport us back here to safety."

"And what if something goes wrong with Druitt?"

Her face softened. "He won't harm me, Henry."

Henry pulled a face, uncertain. "So I guess I've just gotta cool my heels here, huh?"

A grin slid the edges of her mouth upward. "For what other reason did you bring that hand-held video game you're so fond of?"

He blushed, but with a grin, before sobering. "Okay, if you're sure."

She nodded. "Just give us ten hours. We'll be back before then." Slowly, she drew closer to the edge of the water with John. The sloping ceiling dripped condensation down on them. Her fingers found the slippery wet wall and slid down it as she crouch beside the tiny pool, steadying her. After a nod at John, she scooted forward till her toes touched the surface. Flashlight in hand, she dove neatly into the cold water.


	5. Under the Surface

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! I got kidnapped by my sister and taken to Portland for my birthday since we have family there. No access to internet, computer, or my writing at all. Plus, I'm super excited for the new season and can barely keep my hands from shaking!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Four: Under the Surface

The water was clear but dark, growing dimmer the further she went down. The silence and cold deepened until it seemed to press in on her from every side. The chill bordered on freezing without quite tipping over. Once she got a few feet down so that only her own flashlight broke the darkness, she saw a turn into the wall, a crevice that cut a jagged scar in the rock. John's light joined hers, so she knew he had seen it too, and she swam inside. The walls pressed on either side, slightly too narrow at a few points for her to squeeze through without turning and swimming sideways. Her leg scraped against the rough rock, but her powerful kicks slipped her past without a pause. As an experienced diver, she could hold her breath for a very long time, but not forever. Her lungs began to burn, her vision trembling as her brain went longer and longer without air. Not intense, but she needed to find air before John was forced to teleporte them back the way they had come. Then her flashlight shone on a gap in the wall where their tunnel forked. Uncertain, she looked back at John. He gestured either way, so after a short moment, she swam to the right. Not far from there, she saw a break in the ceiling, swam into it and broke the surface of the water. She took a few careful breaths, trying not to make herself dizzy by breathing too quickly.

A hand touched her leg. She started in surprise, before remembering John and moving over so that she wasn't in his personal space as he joined her, his hand trailing up her leg a little before he pulled away.

He gasped a little as he came up, his face in too much shadow for her to see his expression.

Hopefully, the same would hold true for her. Her cheeks were heating, the sensation uncomfortable after the immersion in cold water. She turned her face away, only watching for a moment out of the corner of her eye before eying their next obstacle. The lip of the crevasse they were treading in was high up, the surface of the water sunk a good four feet below the rim where it opened up. Reaching up and pushing off the wall to get height, she tried to get a good grip on the edge but slipped almost immediately back into the water. The liquid closed over her head before she kicked her way back up into open air and coughed the water from her mouth.

"There's a bit of a handhold over here." John grabbed the wall and pulled himself out in a deluge of water that streamed from his shorts and legs like a waterfall. She made to follow, but he sat on the edge and reached down a hand.

She hesitated.

"I'm not going to bite, Helen." His mouth lifted up slowly in a smile. It was strange to see, that same old small smile of gentle humor and teasing. Like he had used to do so long ago.

Chuckling, she took his hand so he could help haul her from the water that was just barely beginning to leech too much heat from her body and making her shiver. Once up beside him on the ledge, she wrung out her hair as best she could, decidedly ignoring the hand he left on her back, though she did not need him to help keep her steady. Heat radiated from his fingers through her shirt, warming a flush through her system. When he finally did remove it after a few minutes, she found she missed the contact. She glanced his way.

He swiped a hand over his face, breathing deeply and looked around.

Shaking sense back into her own head, she followed the beam of his flashlight. Dark shadows danced on the walls, seeming to scurry from the light like roaches. The tunnel was small, not any bigger than the crack they had just swum through. It looked like there were three ways out, tunnels that went off in different directions. One was small, barely big enough for a child and looked like it might head up. Another had sharp looking boulders across half of it, as though there had been a sort of cave in. The other was narrow and disappeared down. They would have to squeeze to make it through.

"Where to now?" John asked her, pointing the light near her stomach so that it didn't shine in her eyes.

"I suppose the only way we can go." She shrugged, gesturing to the narrow one in the middle. Taking out her own light again, she climbed to her feet. "But you had best go back for Henry before we go any further."

John was gone in a flash of light.

In his absence, silence settled on her like a cloak. Dripping water on the smooth floor, she padded lightly over to the way with the fallen rocks. There was room to slip by the obstruction, but no way to maneuver much and no way to see what was beyond. Trying to see further, she fumbled her flashlight and it fell to the ground with a clatter. As the light spun, she closed her eyes to avoid being disoriented. When she opened them again, it was almost completely dark. It reminded her of velvet, feeling thick and soft. Water dripping as condensation fell from the ceiling was the only audible sound. Her light must have rolled under one of the rocks. She bent to one knee, feeling around on the ground blindly for it. Until light caught her eye.

It was on the very edge of her vision, near the small tunnel, under a ledge and so close to the floor that she never would have seen it except for at the vantage point she was currently in. Forgetting her own light, she edged closer. A small patch on a backpack was what was lighting the dark, simply reflecting the light from her flashlight at her.

Backtracking a little, she grabbed her flashlight, then retrieved the backpack in the small tunnel by stretching as far as she could and hooking one of the straps. It was dark blue and black, a waterproof bag made for a child. Inside was a gray cap, an empty water bottle and several empty wrappers for energy bars.

A blinding flash of red light cast dazzling after images on her eyes that she tried to blink away.

"Doc?" Henry sounded nervous.

"Yes, Henry. No troubles I hope?"

"Barely got to level eight." He mumbled, flashing a view of his game.

She smiled. "I found something. A backpack. It think it's Peter's."

"How can you be sure?"

"I doubt anyone else has been here in several years, Henry, and besides-" She brandished the gray cap. "-I'm fairly certain this is Lilian's."

"Wasn't that in the missing person's description?"

Helen nodded.

"Where did you find it?" John asked, glancing around.

She gestured at the small hole. "Just there."

"We won't be able to fit to check it out." Henry said as John crouched to examine the hole.

Helen pointed to the other two tunnels. "The narrow tunnel appears to be the only logical choice, but it goes in the opposite direction. If we want to find Peter, I'm afraid we'll have to get around the cave-in and hope there aren't more such rock falls in the near future."

"Safer to go the other way." John mumbled.

"I realize that, but who knows what trouble Peter could be in. We need to be sure that we do everything we can to find him as quickly as possible. Even if that entails certain risks." She looked between the two men. "You are welcome to remain here." With that she turned away from them and began pulling on her clothes, trying to stop her shivering that had set in since she had come out of the water. Behind her, she heard John grab his things and start to do the same, while Henry sidled close to the tunnel with the cave-in.

"There might be enough room to get through, but there's no telling what's further in. Or if we'll be able to get back."

"If worst comes to worst, I can teleport you to safety boy." John said with a chuckle.

"Really, that's enough John." Helen rubbed her upper arms encased once again in her coat, trying to create more heat using friction to warm her freezing fingers. "I'll go in first. John, stay in the middle where you can get to either of us, and Henry, you take up the rear." She didn't wait to hear their murmur of assent before slipping through the crack, her small pack clutched in one hand. Now that they had some evidence that their two missing people could have been prepared enough to still be alive, her drive and determination had returned. Adrenaline rushed through her system as she scrapped her back and chest past the sharp rocks. Her cheek was grazed as she tried to shift her hips further sideways to ease through. The sounds of John right behind her was punctuated by grunts of effort and at one point a yelp from further behind by Henry. In that moment, she felt both relieved and vexed to be a woman. Her hips were wider and her breasts an inconvenience, but at least her shoulders were narrower and her frame thinner if not shorter, than Henry's. With one last shove, she stumbled out into the a more open area beyond the rock fall where she could breath again. She took a glance around with her flashlight, then turned back and helped pull John free. Henry was having a bit more difficulty and so was further back. He was stockier than John; shorter and wider. If she were to describe the HAP to anyone, she would probably use the term burly. Even as she looked into the crack, she saw him turn a little too much to get his foot forward and become jammed in between.

Slightly panicked eyes met hers.

"Now, Henry." She spoke before he could become too frantic. "Just slip your right foot back, that's it, and jerk you shoulders sideways."

He did as she said, trusting her to see what he couldn't feel and again began to move through toward her. Finally, he was out, breathing a little quicker than normal and with new scratches on his arm but relatively alright.

She turned to John and inspected him up and down as well for any sort of injury.

Head tilted and lowered, he caught her eye and smiled. "Satisfied that I'm unharmed?"

Her cheeks heated a little but she tried to keep her voice professional. "Yes, quite."

He stepped close and spoke so low that even in the quiet of the tunnels Henry wouldn't overhear. "As a doctor or a woman?"

She scowled at him, cheeks burning now in a full-on blush and turned away. "Any idea on our location Henry?"

The HAP shrugged. "Well, we've been heading relatively east for some time, though the water course seems to have taken us more south."

"Not far from Loch Treig I'd say." John commented, walking to the walls and swiping them with a hand. "Especially considering the increased water in the air and on the walls."

She glanced around, then set her light on the tunnel that disappeared into the darkness. "Then as they say, gentlemen, onward."

"Is it just me, or is it getting even colder?" Henry said after they had been walking for another two hours.

"I suspect we've gone even lower underground." Helen answered, her voice shaking because of her shivering. "Just be glad you aren't wet, like we are."

"Trust me, I am." Henry stopped walking and leaned against a wall. "Look, I know we're on an urgent mission looking for lost people and all, but I'm exhausted. We've been underground for almost fourteen hours and we've been walking almost all that time. It's like ten o'clock at night, can't we make camp or something? We've got sleeping bags in the packs we left by the water."

They both looked at her.

Sighing, she set the pack she had been carrying on the floor by her feet. "Perhaps it would be best. John, would you-"

He vanished in a flash of light before she could finish.

"Here's as good a place as any." Henry said happily, sliding to his bum and taking a energy bar from his pocket. One bite into it and John returned with their larger packs they'd left behind when scrapping past the cave-in near their tunnel entrance. He set them down and pulled out the two sleeping bags.

Immediately, Henry grabbed his, unrolled it near the wall, pulled off his shoes and climbed inside.

Helen spared him a small smile. He really wasn't used to this sort of thing. He must be exhausted. Unfurling her own sleeping bag, she looked over at John, who was checking the tunnel behind them. He was probably as chilled as she was, but was doing a better job of not showing it. Still, he had no sleeping bag, nor even extra clothes to change into. She closed her eyes. It was difficult to make herself say it, but her sense of decency allowed for nothing less. "John, you can share mine."

He turned around and looked at her, surprise written all over his face. "That's... not necessary Helen."

"Nonsense. You're cold. If you try to sleep that way, you'll get sick and then you'll be of little use to anyone. Mine is big enough for two as long as you don't mind not being able to move."

After staring at her for several minutes as she pulled off her shoes and pulled on an extra sweater, he stepped over and unzipped the bag to hold it open for her. She slipped inside of it, and shivered for an entirely different reason when he joined her. There really wasn't room enough to move once the bag was zipped up tight, but she wasn't wholly uncomfortable. He was exuding body heat that melded with hers and warmed the sleeping bag quickly, for which she was grateful. And his leg pressing against hers with his arm by her head and chest against her back was a sensation she had never thought to feel again. A part of her stiffened, but the rest of her relaxed into it. At war with herself, she didn't notice he had even shifted till his lips grazed the back of her neck. "John." It was a warning, but the hitch to it wasn't something she could control.

"Sleep, Helen." John whispered softly.

She could feel his head fall back away from her skin and settle on his own arm, so she burrowed her face into the sleeping bag and let her own tiredness melt away her nerves. Sleep came quickly after that.

More walking the next day found them slipping slowly into a rhythm as their feet plodded on and on. It lulled them into a sort of stupor.

So when Helen took a step without looking, it surprised her to meet only thin air. Henry, walking right behind her, reacted quickly and grabbed the back of her coat before she could fall.

Though startled, John helped haul her back from the precipice.

For a minute, she sagged against the wall, eyes closed and heart racing.

"Helen, you'll want to see this." John said.

Intrigued by his tone, she pushed off the wall and cautiously approached. They were standing on the edge, where darkness seemed to consume their lights just beyond. Once she was beside them, her eyes widened. "Dear god."

Just on the edge of where the light of their flashlights reached, was the crumbling remains of several buildings, all half-submerged in water.


	6. Too Deep

Author's Note: I stayed up really late last night and wrote this, because I finally could and because that pesky bit of writer's block finally let up. Excuse any spelling errors please. I might come back and edit them later, I'm not sure, but I'm a little too tired right now to go over it again to check. So I decided to post it a little earlier than usual, since, if you're like me, you're not gonna be reading fanfiction, but watching the actual show on Friday. :) Yay!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Five: Too Deep

"What in the heck is this place?" Henry asked in awe, staring at the crumbled buildings visible at the edge of his light.

They had used rope from their packs to descend the good twenty-five feet from the tunnel where they had been to the floor below, where a strip of rock and moss was still above the water level. The cavern they had entered was large, so much so that their lights didn't even reach the ceiling it was so high above them.

"I've never heard of any people living underground here, abnormal or otherwise." John looked over at her.

"Nor have I, but the Ferabore's are not exactly the type to volunteer information very readily. In fact, most people of the Highlands are tight-lipped about such things. I'm not surprised I haven't heard anything about this. It could mean there is a separate entrance, and people of the area once lived in here for protection. Hard to say really. We should investigate nonetheless." She started pulling off her outer clothes like the day before, down to her still damp black tank top and shorts. "Henry, remain here with our things. Keep your eyes and ears open."

"You got it, Doc." He answered in a hushed voice, still staring at the ruins.

John was already in his shorts again, standing up to his ankles in the water.

Stacking her clothing on top of her bag, Helen waded out beside him.

The floor suddenly fell away only ten feet from where Henry stood, to reveal deep dark water they couldn't see the bottom of with just their flashlights. John knelt and slipped into the water with a bit of a hiss. "It's a little cold, but not too bad." He assured her.

Hesitating for only a moment, she followed. 'A little cold' her left foot, this water was freezing! Still, she swam forward toward the buildings. Almost to the first of the ruins, John stopped. As she swam up next to him, her legs came in contact with the wall of rock the dwellings were built upon. "Must be s-some sort of underground river that outgrew out of it's b-bounds." She said, her teeth chattering. Slowly, she pulled herself out of the water on top of it and stood. Bending down, she helped John up.

After a wave of her flashlight to signal to Henry that they were alright, she led the way among the old buildings. Most were half collapsed in the water, all looked several hundred years old. The stone from which they were made was slick with slime and displaced by the water. No sound but that of water penetrated the silence.

They were peering into their tenth building, when a sound caught Helen's attention. Glancing at John, who hadn't seemed to notice anything, she waded through toward the sound. In one of the last buildings against the far wall of the large cavern, an old wall had collapsed onto what must have once been a lean-to. It formed a sheltered, cave-like little area. Shining her light inside, Helen crouched cautiously at the entrance. Her heart skipped a beat and she gasped with relief. "Peter!"

The little boy was crouched against one wall, almost cowering, his shirt torn half-off his chest and eyes wide with fear.

"It's alright, Peter. I'm a friend of your grandmother's." She said gently, kneeling in the water to be more on level with him.

At the mention of his grandmother, the boy started forward a little, but hesitated, looking beyond her shoulder.

"We're here to take you home if yo-" She was cut off by a loud screech, and jerked around to look. The cavern made the sound echo till it was impossible to tell which direction it had come from. A glow was filling the area though, lighting it up just enough to seem like they were under a half moon rather than a ton of rock. Hastily, she turned back. "Peter, come on now, we need to leave."

His eyes had grown to the size of saucers and he had huddled back against the wall.

"Peter!" When she saw he wasn't moving, Helen tried a different tactic. "My name is Helen Magnus. You've heard of Dr. Magnus, haven't you? From the Sanctuary?"

Seeming startled, he looked at her again and nodded.

"Then you know I'm capable of defending myself and others very well. It's what I do. Whatever that sound came from, I won't let it hurt you. You have my word, and I never go back on my word."

That did it. It never ceased to amaze her how easily some people put her on a pedestal to the point where she was invincible and capable of toppling mountains. Normally, she despised that because it made people more unforgiving of her faults or mistakes. Like she had to be perfect all of the time. For one of the first times in her life though, she was grateful for the exaggerations. To him, in this moment, she needed to seem unconquerable. The boy crawled out to her, clutching her tightly as she stood and hustled him away. It was awkward to run with her arm around him and his legs tangling with one of hers every five steps, but she didn't dare let him go.

A loud crash off to their right made her pull the boy with her behind a precarious wall to hide. Sibilant hisses from deep inside something made the water around their legs tremble and ripple. Light reflected off it gently from an unknown source. After she clicked off her light, she dared a peek around the edges of stone.

Towering above the one story building between them, was a creature she had never encountered before. The slight glow was coming from edges on it's body. It's head was long, with a kind of wide-nostriled snout on the end and it's eyes to the sides, much like a horse. Chest narrow, it had two stiff, fin-like forelegs on each side for a total of four, each ending in a spiny claw that hooked into the buildings beside it as it leaned forward, sniffing.

Helen pulled back, hugging Peter even closer to her. When a slick, sliding squelch announced it was moving away from them, she leaned back out to see how it moved. It's long body was followed by a strong tail and several smaller fins that powered it through the water. It was a narrow creature, about at long as she, John, Henry and Peter would be tall, laid flat end to end.

She pulled Peter with her quickly across the gap between their wall and the building it had just been by for more cover. It was then that she spotted John. He was watching the way the creature had disappeared, not exactly hiding but definitely moving cautiously. Taking a risk, she hissed at him quietly.

He looked her way. His shoulders sagged with relief, visible even in the dim lighting, and he started making his way toward her, but froze. When another screech tore the air in the cavern and echoed sickeningly off the walls, she spun to look behind them. The creature was crouched low on it's front forelegs, wide flat eyes looking right at John, who was exposed to its sight. It slid even lower, the hissing growl deep in it chest making the whole cavern quake softly.

Helen wanted to curse. There really was no choice. John was their only chance at a quick escape and she needed to get Peter out of here, _now_. All she could do for Henry was hope that he had the sense to hide well when he had heard that thing coming. Grabbing Peter by the back of his shirt, she hauled him around out into the open facing John. "Run!"

Frightened, the boy did as he was told, running as best he could in the water toward John.

"Get him home, John!" She yelled, backing up even as the creature started toward the two, it's cry ear-splitting.

"Helen!"

"You promised, John! This is my wish." She stepped back further, taking out her gun from its small, waterproof case. The second the creatures head came into view from the corner of the building beside her, she shot it. A flash of light told her John had, for once, listened to her.

Duly distracted, the creature shrieked, clawing at the side of it's snout where her bullet had disappeared. Bleeding, it turned her way.

Cursing, she struggled to run in the water and practically dove around the corner of the building, barely missing being torn in half. She stumbled through the water, hearing crashes and more hisses as the creature followed. Trying to think as she moved, she turned another corner and hurried in the direction they had entered through. A light, high up, shone dimly her way, telling her that Henry had climbed back into the hole of the tunnel for safety. Smart lad. If she could get there as well...

At the edge of the last building, a hiss made her look up just as the creature stumbled over the building trying to get to her. Dodging the tumbling rubble, she shot at it again. It screamed and thrashed, it's foreleg smashing more rubble to the ground beside her. Arms over her head, she backed up without looking and the ground suddenly vanished beneath her heels.

Remembering the gap too late, she fell backwards into the water, joined by more rocks as the creatures ear-splitting cry tore at the air again. The water closed over her head before she could get a good breath. A large chunk of stone landed on her and started dragging her down even as she thrashed against it.

Lower and lower she sank, down to where no light and no sound penetrated, where everything was still and silent as a void. The water here was cold, never touched by daylight. At last, it felt like she landed on a ledge of sorts as she sensed other rocks continue on past her. Struggling hard, she managed to shift the rock more onto her right side, just enough so that it wasn't completely crushing her. But kick and flail and wriggle as much as she wanted, she couldn't get it to budge more than a few inches more. Taking out her light, she clicked it on and examined the way the rock lay. A gap between it and the wall seemed her best and only recourse, so she stuck the shaft of her flashlight inside and tried to lever it up. She succeeded only in increasing the pressure on her arm painfully without freeing her. Her flashlight slipped from her grasp, but she didn't care as she clawed at the thing holding her down. Chest aching, she pushed up with her feet as hard as she could, but it was no use. Her vision started to dim as the lack of oxygen took it's toll. She knew her efforts were getting weaker with every passing moment. Another few tugs and her limbs were getting too heavy to move. It wasn't till the adrenaline rush left her system completely that she could feel how achingly cold it was down here. Her thoughts got sluggish. It was several seconds till she realized she had stopped moving and she couldn't bring herself to care.

A hand suddenly grabbed at her forearm, pulled her body close and the tingling sensation of teleporting shocked the very last of the breath from her lungs. She lost consciousness for a moment before becoming dimly aware of her body again, fighting the dark off sluggishly in confusion. She could hear voices shouting and none too few curses as her limbs tingled and when she tried opening her eyes, her vision swam like static. Coughing, she bent her head forward to expel water from her lungs, someone's hands helping her to do so. She was bloody freezing.

"Magnus? Magnus, can you hear me?" Will's voice.

Why would she be hearing Will's voice? She felt herself being lifted up onto something soft. Her heart hammered in her chest. A hand touched her face, but she jerked, no longer in control of her bodies reactions. Her limbs were going numb.

"What the hell happened?"

The shouting made her wince, startled. It also caused a furious pain to spike through her head.

"Easy, Doc, everything's alright." Kate's voice soothed. "Hey, dorks, if you're gonna yell take it outside, she's got it rough enough as it is."

Helen felt relieved. She must remember to thank Kate when she was able. For now, her body was convulsing too much for a single word to pass her trembling lips.

"Helen, can you answer me?" A burly voice asked.

She grabbed toward it, but failed to do more that make her arm fling outward. "M' f-friend." Her teeth chattered so much it seemed to come out unintelligible, but a furry hand gripped hers all the same. She felt the cold that had penetrated to her bones seep further through her, gnawing at her insides. As it spread, lethargy took her, soothing her rapid heartbeat. Finally, her limbs settled, but she could barely feel them at all anymore. Not that she cared. All she wanted to do now, was sleep.

"Magnus? Helen?" The deep voice turned frantic.

"At least she's stopped shivering." Kate responded.

"That's not a good thing. She's hypothermic. Her body's going into shock. We need to raise her body temperature, now."

More hands tore the wet clothes from her body, but she barely felt the difference as it was replaced. Warmth radiated into her skin as something was stacked and folded around her, but would not go any further. She whimpered in pain and frustration. She was so bloody cold.

"Easy, Magnus." Soft grunts and breathy coos soothed her as a sharp prick announced the entry of a needle near her elbow. "This should help y-"

There was more, but Helen couldn't hear and didn't particularly care. The black of unconsciousness reached for her again and this time, she embraced it wholeheartedly.

Her eyelids were too heavy. Surely opening them shouldn't be this hard? Maybe if she rubbed them?... Nope. That was even more difficult. She decided to stick to working on her eyes. Slowly, with much effort, she managed to slide them open a crack. They felt full of grit, as though she were laying face down on a beach. All she could see were shadows. Her throat and chest hurt; burned actually. An experimental cough made it catch fire and blaze with pain as she tried to stop.

"Whoa, easy Doc." A voice said.

Something pressed to her lips. She swallowed the liquid inside it greedily. Afterward, it was a little easier to open her eyes and the shadow resolved itself into a face. "H-Henry." She croaked.

He grinned at her. "Hey, Doc, nice to have ya back. How are you feeling?"

She closed her eyes. "Badly." Obviously.

Henry chuckled. "Yeah, kind of a stupid question, but I'm supposed to ask. Big Guy's orders."

A peek at him was all that she could manage before she started to drift off again. She was so very tired.

Waking up next was easier, and a wholly unique experience. As consciousness came back to her, it did so in a rush. She sat up quickly, gasping a little, her head reeling, only to hear a hoarse yell and a crash. She flinched and looked around blearily at her surroundings. An infirmary. No, not just any; _her_ infirmary. Her eyes caught on a form on the ground. "Will." She croaked. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"Oh nothin'." Her protege remarked without moving. "I like the floor. You know, nice and cool, plenty of room to stretch. Course, you gotta be sure no one steps on you, but other than that, I think everyone should spend more time down here." Slowly, he heaved himself up from his prone position with a groan. Then he began to pick things up off the floor.

Helen grinned weakly at him. "I am sorry." She coughed. Too much talking.

"Hey, it's fine. Take it easy." He handed her a cup full of water.

Sifting through her sluggish thoughts, she thought she got a pretty good handle on her muddled recollections. After a few swallows, she met Will's eyes again. "Hypothermia?"

He nodded. "Mild hypothermia when you arrived quickly deteriorated into moderate hypothermia before we could even figure out what had happened. I don't think I've seen a live human being's skin so blue. You stopped moving, even stopped breathing for a minute. Your heart rate was erratic, going from too fast to too slow. We tried warming you up by taking off your wet clothes and wrapping you in heated blankets, then warm compresses, until finally, warmed intravenous fluids seemed the only way to go before we tried more drastic measures. I gotta say, I really was _not_ looking forward to seeing you on heart bypass."

"I take it... the IV proved sufficient?" She asked with difficulty.

"Yeah. Big Guy says you're lucky you didn't get pneumonia though. As it is, you seem to just have one hell of a cold."

"Should pass... soon." She coughed again.

"Yeah, I know, you're 'Ms. Über-immune-system', but I still want you to take it easy for a while anyway. You almost drowned and then almost froze to death like two seconds later. Indulge me." He quirked his mouth up, his head tilted.

She hated when he did that, it always made her smile whether she wanted to or not. "I will. But... what about Peter?... and Henry?"

"Druitt got the boy here just fine. Scared the hell out Kate when he started banging on the front gate, cursing at EM shields and locked doors. Said he didn't have time to bypass it and unless we wanted you all to die we'd better let him in and shut the thing down. Naturally, the Big Guy took one look at Peter and did it. You're lucky he did. If you had gone any longer without emergency medical care, you'd be-" He stopped and shifted uneasily.

"Dead." She finished for him softly. "Yes, I know. And Henry?"

"Not long after Druitt brought you back, he went off again. It took him a while to come back with Henry and he had this gash on his arm, but they're both doing okay." Will's smile was genuine, but strained nonetheless. "You had us really worried, you know?"

She grimaced. "Just keeping you on your toes." It was getting a little easier to talk, even though she still felt like there was a fire in her throat.

Will hesitated, then turned toward the intercom. Pressing a button, he mumbled into it and then rejoined her. "So... you went off with Henry without so much as a word of warning, took _Druitt_ along for the ride and then decided to almost got yourself killed too?"

Smiling, she met his eyes, not to be berated for her lifestyle by anyone. "Be glad they both insisted on accompanying me."

His half-grin was incredulous. "I've said it before and it's still true: You're insane."

"Nonsense." She coughed. "We're all alive, aren't we? And I can hardly be blamed for encountering an abnormal I didn't even know existed."

"Yeah, you and Nessie really didn't get along well, did you?"

"Don't be absurd, William. We relocated the Loch Ness 'Monster' years ago."

His face went a little slack, the way it always did when she flippantly remarked about something from her past. It made her smile, though she was trying desperately not to laugh. After a shake of his head, a few long blinks of his eyes, and clearing his throat, Will put a hand to his head. "I've got to spend more time reading old reports." His voice was a little breathless.

She chuckled a little, which only made her cough dryly, her throat feeling like it was tearing and filling with salt.

Looking concerned, he got her more water.

After she took some more sips, she felt better. Enough to be pleased when Henry, Kate, and her burly old friend came in the door. Beside them, hesitantly peeking around Henry, came Peter.

John brought up the rear. Immediately he came to her bedside and grabbed one of her hands. "How are you feeling?"

Despite herself, Helen gave him a small smile. "I'm fine." She let her fingers trail over the back of his hand before squeezing lightly and pulling gently away. "Thank you."

He smiled sadly at her.

Peter came forward uncertainly. "Dr. Magnus?" His small voice had the same accent as his grandmother.

She smiled kindly at the child in response.

"Thank you very much for s-saving my life." His eyes filled with tears. "I-I'm so s-sorry you got hurt."

Waving a dismissive hand, she smiled wider, hoping to reassure him. "Not at all, Peter. I've been through far worse. Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm just glad you're safe."

"M-My mother said s-someone would come for us. That Grandma knew lots of people and she would send someone." Tears slid down his cheeks. "She used to say there wasn't anything grandma couldn't do." Scrubbing at his face, he scowled, as though mad at himself. "S-Sorry."

Placing a gentle hand on his small shoulder, Helen bent her head till he was forced to look her in the eye. "Never be sorry for sadness, Peter. You love your mother very much. It's perfectly alright to miss her. I promise, I'll do my best to find her, and Titus, to bring them back to you."

The boy's eyes lit up with hope and joy.

It filled her heart with similar feelings to see the change, but when she looked around the room, everyone was just staring at her in horror. Sensing a sensitive topic was about to be argued, she pointed toward the door. "Thank you for coming to see me Peter. Would you mind heading back to your room now? I need you to get ready to go back to your grandmother."

He nodded eagerly, turned back at the last minute, and hugged her.

She blinked for a surprised second, then gave him a squeeze and watched him leave. After a deep breath trying to ease the slight burning again in her throat, though for an entirely different reaon that had nothing to do with colds, she resolutely turned to face her audience. In all honesty, she expected Will to burst out with objections first, but it was John that growled her way.

"Have you lost your mind?"

She looked him in the eye. "No, I don't think I have." His fiery gaze bored into her own, two equal wills clashing like opposing teams in a Rugby match.

"Magnus-" Will finally spoke up. "That creature down there almost killed you."

"I am aware, Will, but my purpose in being there was to find three missing people. Returning with one is all well and good, but until I know for a fact that Lilian and Titus are gone, I'm not going to give up."

"You're in no condition to go back down there!" John's voice rose.

"I've a responsibility to do my utmost to find them. I'm not so easily daunted either, John." Her voice scratched, making her cough. "I've made up my mind. I'll be leaving in the morning, with or without your help."

Will opened his mouth, perhaps to protest too, but she spoke over it.

"This isn't open for further discussion. We have an abnormal who may have killed people and two missing people unaccounted for. I assume Peter had no idea what happened to his mother, or Titus?" She pointed this question at Henry.

He shook his head, drawing back a little bit, not wanting to get in the middle of a row.

"Then everyone who wishes to come along needs to be ready in the morning." She threw back her covers and gingerly stepped out. The IV stung as she pulled it out, ignoring her employees hisses as the skin dragged at the long needle before coming loose. "Will, I'll need you in the library, finding every bit of information you can based from Peter's and John's descriptions. I seem to remember an old Scottish or Irish legend about a horse faced sea creature. Anything would help."

He just stared at her in shock.

"As for me, I will be trying to get some sleep in my rooms so I can be ready for tomorrow." Her head gave a rushed swirl when she got to her feet. Obviously, she really was as tired as her limbs felt. "Old friend, give me an arm, will you?" She held out an arm and the large Sasquatch stepped up to aid her from the room. Once they got to her private quarters, she thanked him and asked if he would be so kind as to bring her some tea. He knew her well enough not to argue; knew that she recovered better when in her own rooms, where she could do what she needed to take care of herself. So he nodded, and turned to leave, but stopped and growled.

John was in her doorway, that furious expression still in place.

After a thoughtful moment, Helen spoke softly. "It's alright. I was expecting him."

Grunting threateningly as he passed, her friend stalked through the door, barely getting through before John shut it forcefully.

She sighed. "Please take care. I would prefer it if you didn't break my things."

"You really are mad, aren't you? You actually plan to go through with this ridiculous-"

"Do not berate me, John. I haven't the time." She stepped over to her wardrobe, but before she could open it fully, his hand slammed against it, effectively closing it again. "John!"

"Damn it, Helen, you're not responsible for the whole world!" He was trembling he was so furious as he looked her in the eye, uncomfortably close to her face. "You'll die trying to be. You can't save everyone!"

Her temper shot out of its bonds faster than her brain could keep track of, words spilling from her lips without thought. "You think I don't know that?" She shouted back at him, her voice breaking hoarsely. "I've lost too many people to not understand that, _to it's __fullest_. I couldn't save my own daughter!"

He flinched and turned away, striding to end of her bed.

"Bloody hell, John! I couldn't even save you!"

His surprise, as he turned back, was plain.

She lowered her voice, as much to save her aching throat as to convey her point. "If you think I am not achingly aware of that every day of my life, you have lost what sanity you had remaining."

He stared at her, his very eyes trembling in conflict.

After a deep breath, she reined in her temper and coughed into her fist. Ouch. She really needed to stop shouting or she'd next be coughing up blood. No one would let her go then. Her only hope tonight had been to become decisive and confident so that those that worked for her and were used to taking her orders automatically did as she said without thinking about it too much. Several deep breaths later, she opened her eyes to find him still staring at her. "Don't ask me to give up." Her voice was even hoarser than before. "Please, John. Don't try to ask me to not do everything I can."

He didn't speak, just looked at her.

"It would be easier and less dangerous with your help, but I won't ask it of you if you're set against it. My team and I can manage."

His scoff seemed to brake the tension between them, at least a little bit. For another few beats there was silence again, and when he finally spoke, it was so low it was almost inaudible. "Get your sleep. If you can walk without getting dizzy or winded in the morning, I shall take you. If not, you will wait another day. Even if you flew on your own, I could still get you there faster."

Realizing that was probably the best she was going to get, she nodded. "Deal."

He strode to the door and pulled it open, revealing a furry hand poised on the brink of knocking.

She smiled as John disappeared out into the hall. "Ah, tea. Lovely."


	7. And Heart Pounding

Author's Note: My head is still reeling from the season premiere, but I did manage to write this chapter. Hope you enjoy. Sorry it's a day late, I was trying to make the middle flow better.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Six: And Heart Pounding

A half-hour later, she was standing in Ethel Linaman's living room with John, looking on as the elderly woman crushed her great-grandson to her chest. Peter had a small bag flung over one shoulder that held the few things he had collected in the two days since his rescue.

Helen stayed back, watching the exchange silently. Their tears and soft murmurs tore at her heart a little, causing her heartbeat to skip and making her dizzy. She took a careful step back and felt a steadying hand on her shoulder-blade. Feeling slightly ill and worried she was on the brink of making a rather large fool of herself, she leaned into John's touch. She was so tired. The tea had bolstered her but not quite as much as she had hoped. After dressing in some proper clothes rather than the infirmary gown, she had started to feel her new strength slipping away again. But here...she couldn't sleep now. Ethel and Peter still needed to believe in her. She couldn't tear their hope away by shedding tears, or worse, collapsing there on the old wool carpet.

John's arm snaked around her waist, providing even more support.

Unconsciously, her heartbeat sped up at the contact, but she didn't pull away, even though she felt a little uncomfortable. For just a minute, she let herself pretend that he was her John again. That he wasn't dangerous. Not to her, at any rate.

This seemed to disturb him even more. Lightly, he pressed his lips close to her ear. "Care to rethink our deal?"

Blinking slowly and sleepily, she shook her head.

Ethel turned to them, not releasing Peter even for a moment. "Thank you, Helen. So much."

"Of course, Ethel. I'm only glad I could help. James would be happy to see the two of you together again."

"Dr. Magnus said she's going to find mom and Titus." Peter exclaimed happily.

Ethel's eyes grew wide with surprise and concern.

Helen hurried to correct the boy. "I said I would do my best, Peter. I can't promise you that I'll succeed, only that I'll do everything in my power to bring them home."

The boy nodded eagerly, still leaving her wondering if he really understood.

Eyes piercing, Ethel latched onto her face, then traveled down her frame and over to John, who was now pretty much holding her up on her feet. "I know you'll try, Helen, but do be careful please. It would do me little good to get my granddaughter back at the expense of more lives."

Only having the strength to nod, Helen leaned back a little more. "I'm sorry, but we need to go now. There's still a lot to do." She hoped John got the message; she was fading fast. "I'll let you know the moment we have any news."

Wrapping his other arm about her, John teleported them away, straight back to her rooms. Without so much as a question he lifted her off her feet, swinging her legs up over one arm. Then he carried her to her bed, folding the blankets down and tucking her in almost tenderly.

For her part, she was too exhausted to protest. It was foolish really. She knew what hypothermia did to the body. Knew that even a small burst of energy wouldn't last for long. For a time though, she had let herself believe that she had a buffer against such things. Enough so, that she had arranged for Peter to go home tonight rather than waiting for morning. Aware of John hovering near worriedly, she closed her eyes and spoke softly. "Perhaps we can negotiate further, for not leaving till tomorrow afternoon, but no later." If there was more response than his halfhearted chuckle, Helen didn't hear it. She was all but dragged into sleep.

In the morning, Helen woke to the soft sounds of someone humming. Turning over, she spotted John, sitting sedately in a chair beside her fireplace, reading a book. She leaned her head back into her pillow and almost swore. If there was one thing she had hoped to avoid, it was facing him after what had happened the night before. Settling for sighing deeply, she sat up, slipping one foot out from under the covers. "You needn't have stayed."

John replied without looking away from his book. "And give you the chance to gather yourself before honoring our deal? Really, Helen, you must think me terribly lax."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Says the woman who nearly passed out last night."

"I wasn't expecting to be effected so severely. I failed to compensate, a fact the will not recur, I assure you."

He eyed her over the old pages, then closed the book before him with a snap and stood. "Very well. Let's see you walk across your room. If I am satisfied you aren't seeing double, I shall honor my part of the agreement and take you and your team back to the caves this afternoon."

She huffed angrily. If she didn't need him... She may waste precious time flying in a plane or helicopter and navigating the tunnels again, but damn if it didn't sound far more appealing at the moment. Cautiously, she got to her feet, relieved she was still in the loose pants and button-up sweater from the night before. The thought of John undressing her for bed, while making her skin flush hotly, still made her stomach tie itself in a knot. It was hard enough knowing he had sat there all night, able to watch as she slept.

Walking slowly across her room, she felt neither dizzy nor tired. A smug smile stretched her lips before she entered her washroom and shut the door on John's watching eyes. She made sure to pace herself as she showered. A full night's rest would only go so far. When she peered past her door into her bedroom, she saw no sign of John waiting for her and breathed a sigh of relief. She dressed slowly and carefully, then headed for her office.

Around nine o'clock, Will brought her what little information he had been able to find. Helen in turn relayed it to the others via a meeting in her office at ten. Everyone was there, most apparently set on going with her this time. All, in fact, except for her shaggy old friend, who just settled on giving her tea and standing close in case she collapsed or something. Their concern and hovering made her smile and roll her eyes at the same time. It also made her teeth itch, as though she had forgotten to brush them that morning and she shifted uncomfortably.

They were all watching her, as though amazed she could hold herself upright. John continued to smolder quietly in the corner. Obviously he wasn't as pleased with her success as she had been. Trying to ignore him, she stood leaning against her desk, still feeling tired but much better than she had been thanks to a night's rest and a rather large breakfast. "The creature that John, Henry, Peter, and I encountered in the cave system seems to appear primarily in Scottish mythology. In Ireland it was referred to as the 'Aughisky', but the Highland Scots called it an 'Each Uisge'. It's a gaelic term meaning "water horse". According to records, this was a water spirit, believed to have the ability of shape-shift to disguise itself as a fine horse or a handsome man. It's said to be similar to the kelpie, but far more dangerous."

"And apparently larger." Kate commented, looking over the copy of the compiled report. "That kelpie punk we've got downstairs that tries to dunk everybody that comes near him isn't big enough to topple a one-story building, even a crappy and ancient one. Or take a shot and keep on coming. He whines when he gets a hang-nail."

Helen chuckled softly. "As I said, _similar_ to the kelpie in stories. Probably because of mixed-up recollections and mistaken identities. However, even in stories the Each Uisge isn't usually described as being quite as large as the one we saw. There could be any number of reasons, from environmental changes to people simply encountering younger versions of the creature. Either way, these tales are all we have to work with." She opened the file Will had given her. "The Each Uisge is supposedly the most dangerous water-dwelling creature in the British Isles. If, while in horse form, a man mounts it, he is only safe as long as the each uisge is ridden in the interior of land. The merest glimpse or smell of water means a rather unpleasant end for the rider, as the each uisge's skin becomes adhesive and the creature immediately goes to the deepest part of the loch with its victim."

"Okay, that last part kinda sounds like what we ran into." Henry said, suddenly interested. "Was it's skin sticky?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me? I didn't actually come into physical contact with it, Henry."

He looked disappointed.

Shaking her head, she continued. "After the victim's drowned, the each uisge tears the victim apart and devours the entire body except for the liver, which purportedly floats to the surface as a sign that the creature has struck again."

"Why the liver?"

"Haven't the foggiest." She answered, slightly miffed at being interrupted again.

"Well, is there something about the liver that the creature doesn't like? Maybe we could find out what and use it to help us."

"Perhaps, but the liver is thought to be responsible for over five hundred different functions, including the production of a number of hormones and biochemicals. If you wish to stay behind trying to determine exactly what that is, feel free." Trying not to smile at the adorable chastened look Will wore, Helen turned back to the papers in her hand. "In its human form the each uisge said to appear as a handsome man, and can be recognized as a mythological creature only by the water weeds in its hair."

"Now that sounds more like the Kelpie I know. Except I personally don't think he's remotely handsome." Kate snorted.

Helen ignored her, though she privately agreed. "Along with its human victims, cattle and sheep were also often prey to the creature, and it could be lured out of the water by the smell of roasted meat."

"That bit might be useful." Will said solemnly. "Maybe if we take some cooked meat we can lure it into a trap."

"It's a possibility." She assented. "We'll have some on stand-by if we need it. For now, if at all possible, I'd like to avoid the Each Uisge in favor of searching for Lilian and Titus. The rescue must take priority over the capture."

"Assuming there's anyone left alive to rescue." John murmured.

She met his gaze. "Peter was still alive." They stared at one another for a long, tense moment, before Will spoke up.

"So we get to the tunnels and what? Just look around? The only clues you found led to a cavern with a creature inside that tried to eat you. Where would we even begin?"

"We'll start at the last known location where we found evidence of both Lilian and Titus." She answered, finally breaking eye contact with John and turning to her protege. "Where we first entered the water. John with transport us all there. After that, he'll take Kate and Henry to the area where we found Peter's pack. They'll take the tunnel that the three of us did not."

"And you and me?"

"You, John, and I, will go swimming, so best bring your wet suit. It'll help keep us warm as we search."

"Where exactly are we searching?"

"When we were first in the water, there was a point where the waterway branched off. I want to double back and be sure that we didn't overlook something there. If that does not work out..." She shrugged. "I suppose we will have to decide that once we get to that point. Everyone clear on what we'll be doing? I need to know you understand what you'll be getting into."

"We all read the report from Hank." Kate said, glancing at the HAP. "We know what to watch out for."

"I got a question though." Henry raised a hand as though asking for permission to speak up in school. "Who's to say there aren't more of those guys... those _each_ things, around? I mean, what do we do if we find one?"

"Be sure it doesn't eat you." Kate replied simply.

Henry gave her a sarcastic smile. "Very helpful, thanks."

Helen shook her head. "If you encounter the larger Each Uisge, you protect yourself, hide, and call for help. I don't want anyone trying to take this abnormal on by themselves."

"Like you did?" John commented dryly.

She spared him only an irritated glance. "We work together, or not at all. Is that clear?"

There was a round of nods. Even John bent his head when she stared at him pointedly.

"If there are smaller, or younger, each uisge about, perhaps they would prove less hostile. Either way, you should exercise extreme caution but avoid killing if at all possible. This could simply be a territorial creature defending it's home. I'd rather avoid any further injuries, to anyone."

"What about the locals?" Kate spoke up.

"Declan already mobilized a protection unit for them if the creature finds a way out of the caves." Will replied. "The locals don't seem happy about it, but then, they aren't overly fond of any visitors."

"Get your gear ready, we'll be leaving just after lunch. I want stunners and tranqs, the larger ones, and Henry, you have that netting you promised me?"

"Yep." He answered, smiling.

"Very good. Let's get to it then."

After they had all filed out, the door closed with a click. Only John remained and he slipped closer to her while keeping his voice low. "Are you certain about this?"

"John-"

"You needn't come. The rest of us can handle it."

She turned away. "No offense John, but just because you are now working _with_ us doesn't mean that I trust you to have the backs of my team."

"I had yours, didn't I?" He growled. "When you needed it."

Tilting her head, she sighed and turned back to face him. "And I appreciate that. Greatly. However, its one thing to be grateful and quite another to put the lives of those who trust _me_, into _your_ hands."

He stepped back, looking her up and down.

It took all of her determination not to shift uncomfortably.

"Trying to be responsible for the whole world again?"

She glared. "I _am_ responsible for these people, not that you would understand."

His eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

"Please, John. You've never been one for responsibility. If it did not hold your interest, what did it matter?" How in the world could he move so quickly? Before she even knew what was happening, he was in her personal space again, crowding her back into her desk where its edge dug into the back of her thighs. She used her hands propped up on the surface to hold herself upright, which just meant her face was close enough to his to be able to feel little puffs of his breath on her neck. His hands slipped down beside hers, effectively boxing her in. She swallowed.

For a minute, he didn't speak, seeming content to hold their positions like this forever. Finally, he shifted his weight to one hand and trailed the other up her side.

It felt like electricity quaking through her body from hip to ribs, following the line of his hand like it was a live wire. His thumb brushed the side of her breast before cupping just under her arm and lifting her a little up onto the desktop. Starting in surprise and shock, she pulled back as far as she could without laying out on her desk. Rather than say anything in return to what she had spoken, John chuckled. "You are set in your ways, aren't you?" Then he pushed away from the desk and left the room.

Her whole frame was trembling slightly, her heart rate slowing incrementally.

Will stuck his head in the door. "Magnus, how-" He caught sight of her face and came half in the door. "Hey, are you alright?"

Swallowing again, Helen straightened her posture and nodded. "Perfectly. Is there something you need?"

They left the main entry hall of the Sanctuary somewhere around midday. Kate and Henry were taken first, disappearing in a flash of light. As John returned and grabbed hers and Will's upper arms, he gave them a halfhearted smirk.

Then they were stumbling slightly in the darkness of the cave Helen was all too familiar with.

Kate already had her light clicked on and shining toward the water, so that it reflected gauzy-looking ripples of light on the ceiling. "Cheery place." She commented dryly.

"John." Helen gestured to Kate and Henry.

He merely grunted and grabbed the two again to disappear in that flash of light.

"Think they'll be okay?" Will asked, his flashlight on and trained on the spot where their friends had disappeared.

"They'll be alright. Kate has a surprisingly adept sense of self-preservation mixed with self-sacrifice and Henry has proven himself more than capable. He was very helpful the last time we were in this place."

"Nice spot for a bit of vacation." Will swung his light around and spotted the pile of outer clothing they had left near the water.

She scoffed, shaking her head.

He crouched beside the clothes. "Outer clothes of a man, woman, and child. This was your first clue as to where they had disappeared to?"

"Our first of Titus. However, Lilian and Peter left a torch somewhere back in the cave system."

"Torch? Like- oh, you mean a flashlight."

She gave him a pointed look.

"Right, British, sorry. So you assumed they went into the water?"

"A safe assumption to make. Why else remove their clothing? Sweater, coats, thick pants, boots; all would force a person to sink if in water."

He looked around again. "Well, I suppose there isn't really anywhere else to go. There's a crack over there, but I doubt anyone but Peter could fit through."

"My thoughts exactly." She crouched next to him.

Another flash of blinding light announced John's return.

She stood again. "They've got started all right?"

"As ordered." He gave that slightly mocking bow again.

Helen turned away and started removing her clothes. Her wet suit underneath was making her just a little too hot, but she had been ignoring it knowing it would be worth it. Still, she slipped into the water gratefully. Will's own wetsuit looked much like hers, but John had opted for only his undershorts again. Knowing where to go this time, she led the way. At the fork in the waterway, she went left rather than right. The tunnel slipped lower, the temperature dropping as they went deeper. She used the wall to propel herself faster. There was another break, this one with three options. Without even turning, she took the one that went up. Her lungs were starting to ache a bit.

The way narrowed, making moving more difficult. Finally, she came out of the water, breathing deeply. Will came up behind her, and John brought up the rear.

"May-maybe we should have brought those oxygen tanks." Will gasped.

"Moving through the crevices would prove impossible with bulky tanks attached to our person." She said back, trying to control her breathing. Flashing her light around, she saw that they had been led to an air-pocket, one barely big enough for the three of them next to each other. A long gap in the rock barely three inches wide stretched off into darkness in the ceiling, but otherwise, they were at a dead end. "We need to backtrack, choose one of the other paths."

"Yeah, after we catch our breaths." Will said, leaning against the wall.

She only nodded. They stayed there for several more minutes, only the sound of their breathing breaking the still silence. Then she shined her light near each of them and saw them nod. Diving back into the water, she led them back the way they had come and took another way, the middle. They slanted down and suddenly it opened into a wide berth of water. Perhaps an underwater cavern. She started swimming up immediately and broke the surface with a deep breath, not as winded as before. Immediately, she shone her light around and froze.

When Will came up beside her, she pressed a hand to his mouth before he could make any noise, then silently did the same with John. They stared at her in confusion, so she aimed her light up out of the water again. Only long enough to give them a flash, worried her light would draw attention, but enough for them to see. Beyond the water were the ghostly images of old ruins. This way had brought them right back to the large cavern where they had encountered the Each Uisge. They were in the water where she had almost drowned.

Without a word, John grabbed her and Will by the shoulder and they were suddenly back where they had begun.

She swallowed and took several deep breaths, wresting her panic back down as it seemed to be trying to claw its way up her throat as she stared at the water.

"Are you all right?" John asked, releasing Will but keeping a firm hold on her.

Her eyes would probably betray her, but she nodded nonetheless.

"That was the place? The ruins where-" He trailed off as he stared at her face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She took several steps back. "Yes, of course. John, can you take us back to the air-pocket?"

"You still want to go back?" He asked, frowning.

"Our mission is still the same." She replied earnestly. The sound of static caught her attention. Turning to her pack, she pulled out the radio. "Come again."

The static returned with some muffled words, almost indecipherable. All she caught was dead end and something about rocks.

"Return to your original positions. John will come to get you as soon as we're done."

"C-py." Came through.

She stowed the radio again. "Let's go." She nodded at John. It was an odd sensation to suddenly be in water up to her chest again. After a nod at Will, she went down under the surface and took them to the last waterway they had to examine. It twisted this way and that, almost like a corkscrew, till finally the bottom dropped away to impossible depths. She stayed close to the ceiling, looking for any sign of an air-pocket or tunnel divergence. The lightheadedness started to come back and her chest felt like it was sinking in on itself. Finally, she spotted something that might work and swam into a small crevasse in the ceiling. This time, she gasped as she came out of the water, clawing at the slick wall to hold herself up. Will and John followed, acting similarly.

Will groaned. "Ouch." He tilted his head back to take in deep breaths.

Nodding, Helen pressed her forehead to the wall under her hand, fighting off the exhaustion pulling at her limbs. She wasn't done yet; she couldn't lose the battle now. Fighting off the effects still clinging to her body was taking what little fortitude she had left. Closing her eyes, she thought of Ethel and Peter, both looking at her as though she was their only hope in the world. She held onto that as she opened her eyes. John was watching her when she turned around, like he could hear her thoughts, and his brow creased in a frown.

Too tired to really care, she pointed her light around her head. Over to one side there was a hollow, maybe big enough for one person to crouch inside. On the other, the ceiling slumped low over their heads, then flared out, and finally jutted upward. It would be taxing, but it looked like climbing the wall was a feasible way to go. More than that, she could see where crumbled rock had been disturbed, moved at least within the last month or so.

Attaching her light to her belt, Helen made to climb into the hollow, but stopped as her light reflected off something deep below them.

"We gonna climb that?" Will asked, still looking upward.

"There's something below us." She mumbled into her chest, trying to look straight down and determine what it could be. "I'll just-"

"You mean 'we', of course." John said over her.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine then, 'we' should examine it further before continuing up. It might be a clue. Will, why don't you start climbing?"

He nodded and puled himself out of the water.

Puffing up her lungs and taking a good breath, Helen dove straight down, shining her light on whatever was reflecting. She drew deeper into the water, feeling the temperature drop even more. As the same darkness settled around her, her heart quickened with slight panic and only the repeated assurances she was trying to sooth herself with kept her swimming down. The chasm was deep, even deeper than the dim reflective light. They drew closer to a spot where the rock wall flared out jaggedly. It looked like there had been another rock slide here, which might explain why the gravel had been disturbed rather than her hope that anyone had gone that way. She reached out toward what was reflecting her light, the thing obscured by mud and rock.

Then John's light shone from behind at a different angle than hers. At first, she couldn't quite tell what she was seeing. Finally, her eyes recognized the silver shape of a bracelet and the fingers of a hand and her mind leapt to seeing the same bracelet on the wrist of a very young Lilian Matherson in the pictures on Ethel's mantle. There, trapped and mostly obscured under heavy rock, was the body of the object of their search, Lilian Matherson.

Involuntarily, Helen's mouth gasped open, air bubbles shooting out, taking her startled denial with it. A hand gripped her arm and suddenly she was spluttering on the floor of her entry hall. The shock to her system stole the last of her energy and she just curled in on herself rather than trying to move. Her knees against the hard floor tucked up under her chin, as she coughed water from her mouth, at the same time trying to hold back a sob. In desperation, one hand covered her mouth to keep it in. She had the strange sensation of being unclean.

"I-I'll be right back." John spoke to her, uncharacteristically hesitant. He disappeared, leaving her kneeling alone, dripping water all over the floor.

The sound of someone coming finally got her to lift her head. Seeing her old friend rumbling toward her, she stumbled up to her feet.

He looked concerned. "Is everything all right?" His brusque voice was deep and as hesitant as John's had been.

After a thoughtful moment, she shook her head. "No." A large furry hand guided her back to a seat near the door.

A flash of light announced John's return, holding onto Will's shoulder.

Obviously her protege had been informed of what they had found because he immediately half-knelt in front of her and took her hand. She squeezed it weakly in reassurance. There was another flash, and then a third and she could hear Kate and Henry asking what was wrong.

It was Will that stood and answered their questions while John took the place in front of her.

"Helen?"

Wiping at her face with her hand to try and clear her mind, as though it could erase the images, seemed a futile act. So instead, she focused on her mission. "Will, what did you see?"

Will opened his mouth, but no words came out. After he cleared his throat, his voice sounded husky. "There's a wide shelf some ways up. I was just hooking up the rope when Druitt appeared and told me... about Lilian."

She nodded slowly and looked around. The crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling was on, the windows black. "What time is it?"

"Just after ten." Her old friend grunted.

Blinking, she stared at him for a moment. She had had no idea they had been gone for so long. A firm shake cleared her head enough for her to process that all five of them were staring at her. "Then we should rest and resume early in the morning." She gave John a pointed look. "-and I mean _the morning_ this time."

He just nodded.

Shakily, she got to her feet. "Could you bring some tea to my rooms later?" She asked the Sasquatch that doubled as her butler. After he nodded, she turned to John. "I need a word please."

He glanced at the others, who were taking the hint and shuffling away unobtrusively, then inclined his head toward her. Will laid a comforting hand on her arm one last time.

She spared him a small smile and walked away down the hall with John close at her heels. Her feet took her on autopilot to her rooms, where she let John slip inside before closing the door firmly. She then took a jacket from a hook near her door and handed it over to him. A moment's quiet filled the air as he slipped it on and she rested her forehead against the wood. Her whisper sounded annoyingly defeated even muffled against her bedroom door. "Take me to Ethel." She could practically feel his eyes traveling down and back up her body.

"I don't think.." He trailed off when she remained silent. A sigh sounded behind her and then his hand settled gently on her shoulder. There were no more words spoken as he took them, no looks shared, just silence. Arriving in Ethel's living room sent a stab of pain through her heart. It was dark, but movement near the kitchen told her someone was awake.

"It's Dr. Magnus." She spoke softly.

A light flared and the boy with the bright blue scaling nodded her way. Then he motioned to them and started up the stairs. She followed sedately, her actions calm even while her heart hammered. Pausing at the doorway in which the boy disappeared, Helen gripped the edge of it hard, dizziness back and making her vision swim.

"Helen?" Ethel asked from the bed as a small lamp was turned on.

The boy stacked pillows behind the old woman's back as she tried to sit up. One look at Helen's face and Ethel's crumpled. A wrinkled hand lifted to cover her mouth. After many quiet minutes filled with broken and almost silent sobs, Ethel looked at her again. "Both?" The question was choked and filled with such sadness. All too familiar sadness.

Helen shook her head. "We haven't determined what happened to Titus yet." She whispered. "We'll be returning in the morning to examine one last avenue. After that..." Unable to say more, she hung her head. Her hands were clenched together before her, her fingers interlaced and white with pressure.

"Grandma?" Peter's voice quaked behind her.

Her eyes shut of their own volition. Not that. Anything but having to face Peter so empty-handed. As the boy passed her to get to his grandmother, she choked out a whisper. "John." Her voice broke.

Almost instantly, John grabbed her shoulder and they were back in her bedroom.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at her hands, fingers outstretched. Then she realized she was still in her wet suit. The same wetsuit she had worn while in the water Lilian had died in. Without a care for the fact that John was still there and watching, she clawed the thing from her body desperately. She then stared at the pile despondently, as though it held answers it had yet to reveal. Tears bit at her eyes, stinging till she was forced to swipe at them.

Without warning, John's arms wrapped around her from behind.

She tensed, but he didn't move further than to link one hand around his opposite elbow, arm across her shoulders along the line of her collar bone. His strong arms just caught and held her, like he was trying to bolster her. To support her. In that moment she couldn't lie to herself. It felt good. She leaned her head back against his shoulder with a heavy sigh of exhaustion and frustration, eyes closed against the world as though she could block it out. "He's just a boy. He... doesn't deserve to be alone."

John squeezed her harder, then released her. "You need to change into your clothing."

She looked over her shoulder and saw him turn his back politely. Nervously, she pulled things from her closet, stacking them on the back of a chair haphazardly. She pulled her clothes on hurriedly, completely forgetting a bra as she fastened the buttons up the front of her blue dress shirt and leaving her feet bare. When she turned to John, his back was still facing toward her modestly and she felt a small surge of relief and maybe just a little disappointment. But when he turned around and stepped toward her, taking her breath away by entering into her personal space again, the very air had shifted from caring tension to that all too familiar ache of sexual tension. An air of desire and fear that had always twisted her gut all those years ago with one such look from him. She had loved him and even as he threatened her, she had wanted him.

Now his eyes were dark as coal yet fierce, burning from within like a bonfire set ablaze. The way his gaze raked gently up and down her body, Helen could guess that she was the one holding the lighting torch. She backed up uncertainly. He just followed, so instead she tried holding her ground. He reached out slowly, then undid one of the buttons on her shirt before she could protest. Instinctively, she lifted her hand to slap him, but he caught it and held it as he continued what he had been doing as though she hadn't reacted adversely to his advance. Her breath quickened sharply.

Why had she put her gun all the way under her pillow? It seemed so far away now. She tried backing away again, her mind seizing and unable to come up with other options. The back of her knees hit the bed and she fell back, too shocked to do anything as John followed her and trapped her body with his. One hand slid up her stomach as her breathing turned as ragged as his. Her body was tired and sluggish, feeling almost the same as it had the night before, like all her energy had drained at once.

John slowly popped the rest of the buttons on her dress shirt and barely pulled it apart to show a line of her skin down the center of her body. She reached up without thinking to shove him off of her but his other hand pinned her arm, just like her first, to the bed beside her head. His grip was hard enough to bite into her skin bruisingly. She struggled against his hold, but weakly, her mind and body out of synchronization. He grinned wickedly and bent his head.

Oh, god. His touch lit like fire as he kissed the sensitive flesh in the curving notch at her throat, then trailed his lips down to the stretch of skin between her breasts. He kissed his way down her sternum, in a line down over her diaphragm to her stomach. His hands left her arms and slipped over her body to the side, all the way to where her pants hung low, edging the waistline. A burning sensation lit deep within the pit of her stomach. As his deft fingers curled around her hip bones, he bent his lips to ghost the trace of a pattern on her left hip before swaying to the exposed dip where the curve of her taut stomach met the bone. A particularly sensitive spot he apparently remembered. He nuzzled into it, brushing his tongue gently over the heated skin.

A shudder of pleasure shook Helen's whole frame, forcing out a gasp through her lips. It kicked her brain back into rhythm, allowing her to realize her arms were free once more. She used the last of her strength and determination to desperately push him away before he could continue. "No!" She wanted to curse that it came out like more of a yelp than a demand.

He released his strong hold on her hips. His dark eyes regarded her, the dangerous glint in them at being denied only serving to further strengthen her resolve to put an end to this even as her heart continued to flutter painfully.

She pulled her legs out from under him and curled them up till she was couching on the bed, watching him, headless of her shirt that threatened to fall open completely and expose her to those same eyes she could only stare at. He radiated something from within that made it impossible to look away. Trying desperately to ignore how much her limbs were shaking, how dangerous the man at the edge of her bed could be, she fought her attraction like it was a living thing inside her. Heedless of the fact that the draft from her open shirt was causing her to shiver even more, she edged off the bed and finally wrenched her eyes away from his. Resolutely, she turned her back.

It was a dangerous thing to do, she knew, but she needed to compose herself and she could not do that with him never looking away from her face. With great care, she redid the buttons on her shirt and pulled her pants back up nearer to her navel, all the while keeping her ears open for any movement from him as she did so. There was nothing, only silence and the prickling sensation at the back of her neck that his eyes were still on her. An irrational part of her wondered that his gaze didn't bore a hole right through her and out the other side.

There was a knock at the door.


	8. Say it Now to Me

Author's Note: Erg! This chapter was harder to write, but I have no idea why. Then my computer wouldn't access the internet for some reason. Still, here it finally is.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Seven: Say it Now to Me

Early the next morning, Helen was exhausted from lack of sleep, but at least her body wasn't feeling as ragged as it had been the day before. Her strength was slowly returning. She sipped at her hot tea, tasting the slight tang of steeped leaves and savoring it. The liquid soothed her rattled nerves and calmed the ache still in her chest. When her old friend had knocked on the door with a tray of tea the night before, the tension in the room had at last broken. Relief had flooded her system when the door edged open and John had left before she was able to do more than glimpse his expression.

She shifted in her seat, feeling the uncomfortable twist in her belly again and tried to force her thoughts away from her former lover. Her fingers pressed at the headache throbbing in her forehead. Almost not so former. A firm shake of her head pushed the thought away. Instead of coming up with something better to occupy her mind, she was left sitting there staring into space, barely able to keep her mind blank. She sighed in frustration and stood. Claiming her gun, she tucked it in its place and made her way out of her bedroom. After slipping into the entry hall, she spotted John waiting there and felt her throat close. All she could do was pray he did not say anything about what had happened the night before. She looked around at the others.

Kate and Henry were chatting quietly. Will's eyes had been following her since she had entered.

Resolutely, she turned to John. "Take us back. Right to the shelf Will spoke of. We need to follow that trail, it could lead us straight to Titus."

He stared at her for a tense minute before he reached out and gently gripped her elbow, then touched Will's shoulder and they ended up in the dark of the caves, situated on the shelf precariously. She switched on her light and glanced around, trying not to focus on what lay in the water somewhere below them farther than she could see.

"There's not a lot of room." John grunted.

"We'd best move on Will, so there will be room for Henry and Kate." She said, shining her light into the depths of the shelf. The ceiling sloped low over the rest of it, deep into the wall, disappearing in darkness. John disappeared in a flash of light. She nodded at Will. Sliding down into a crouch and walking with her knees bent and head bowed to avoid the low ceiling, she made her way slowly into the dark.

"If Titus did come this way," Will huffed behind her, "he might have gone up further."

"Best to check this way first. It is easier than climbing up further."

"Says you." He grunted. "This position is murder on my shins. How do you manage to do it so well?"

"Practice." She chuckled.

There was a flash of light behind them, and Kate's annoyed voice rang toward them. "Dude, your standing on my foot."

Will snorted.

Helen just grinned and continued on. The ceiling got even lower, to the point where she had to get on her belly and shuffle forward. Then suddenly, the floor dropped away. She over-balanced as her front half tilted and her mouth emitted a startled yelp as she started to slide over the edge.

"Magnus!" Will's hands grabbed at her legs, trying to hold onto her but he couldn't get a grip.

She fell and for a moment was almost completely weightless as her legs spun around. Then she impacted hard rock with her back and stars exploded in her vision as she rebounded and tumbled forward several feet before finally rocking to a halt. For several minutes, her head just throbbed with such a painful stab that she couldn't hear anything or see where she had landed. Then the sound of someone shouting her name filtered through.

"Magnus!"

"Helen!"

"Doc, can you hear us?"

"Over there! Might be a way down." Kate yelled.

Then the sound of falling, sliding rock and someone landed beside her.

"Helen?" John's voice seemed to caress her ear.

She opened her eyes. "Ouch." Her voice trembled.

"Are you alright?" He flashed his light near her eyes and she flinched.

"Excellent." She groaned, starting to sit up slowly. "Oh." Her body spasmed and forced her back down.

"I'll take you home."

"No." She closed her eyes. "No, John. I'm all right, I just- need a minute."

"You fell pretty far." Will gasped, sliding in beside her.

"Just a fall. I'll be fine." She raised a hand and touched her aching head. Her fingers came away wet, but she hid the blood as best she could, wiping it in her hair. "My pack absorbed most of the impact." It was true; the small, thin pack strapped to her back had indeed kept her back from too much harm. Her head just happened to be another matter. Finally, she actually succeeded in sitting up. Her vision swam a little and she guessed she had a mild concussion, but the nausea wasn't too intense for her to suppress. Her back ached and stabbed dull pain along her spine as she twisted to look around. A bruise, but not a bad one. She'd had worse only a short time ago.

"Geez, Doc." Henry said, landing down and giving a hand to Kate as she followed. "Didn't you just get out of the infirmary?"

Helen chuckled weakly, holding out her hands to John and Will.

They shared a look and then helped her to her feet.

Groaning, she peered around at the opening she had fallen in. Looking at the walls, her eyes caught on a light that was apart from their own. She hobbled toward it.

"Helen?" John questioned.

"I see light."

"Uh oh." Henry said. "Is it that bad?"

"No, Henry." She laughed. "Sunlight." They followed her as she made her slow progress forward. The cave wasn't so much a tunnel as opposing horizons. Wide open space stretched to either side, the ceiling low and the ground high. She felt sandwiched, running her hand along the ceiling to be sure she didn't clip her aching skull. When she rather suddenly came out into dull sunlight, she squinted. "What in heaven's name?"

"What?... oh." Will came to stand beside her and stared with her down into a tiny valley. Where the mounds of rock surrounding them opened, they could see water.

"Henry, where are we?" She asked, turning around to him.

He gazed down at the equipment he had already pulled from his pack in anticipation of her question. "Based on the GPS, doubled with the compass and map, I'd say that water-" He pointed. "-is Loch Treig."

"How is that possible?" Will mumbled.

"If that dude Titus came out here, wouldn't he be able to find his way back to the village? I mean, he grew up around here, right?" Kate asked, looking around at everyone.

Helen looked back at the Loch in confusion, trying to sort through the facts.

"Which begs the question... where is he?" John asked, a hint of rage lacing his voice. "If he got out, why didn't he send word so that Lilian and the boy didn't follow him?"

She turned back. "He would have. Which means he most likely couldn't. Either he went up, further back in the tunnel, or he ran into something between here and the village." Looking back into the dark they had just come from, she paused, thinking. Then she pointed. "John, I want you, Kate and Henry to go back the way we came. Go further up and be sure you examine every avenue, but don't get separated. I want to know you'll have a way out of there if something goes wrong."

"And you?" John asked, looking at her with eyes wide, as if surprised and alarmed.

"Will and I are going to make our way to the village. If nothing else, I want Will to speak to the locals, perhaps he can glean something- anything- we might have missed. If we do not find any clues, either on our way to the village or in it, we'll wait for you near Glen Hanserd's home." She gave them each a careful look. "Don't be too long, or I shall come for you myself and will be very displeased at the inconvenience." After nodding certainly in the face of each of their unsure expressions, she waited until she lost sight of their flashlights. Then, she motioned to Will. "Let's go."

For a while, they beat a path toward the Loch in silence, careful of the gravel and slippery moss.

Finally, Will puffed out the questions she had almost been able to _feel_ him churning around in his mind since before they'd even started walking. "You really think I can get something from the locals?"

"Perhaps." She answered a little breathlessly, steadfastly ignoring the headache the exertion was throbbing through her mind. "You have proven to be very observant, Will. Whether or not you actually persuade them to speak to you is besides the point."

"You think they might be hiding something?" He asked, sounding a little surprised.

"They've lived in the area for quite some time. I find it difficult to believe that a creature or creatures of that size could have lived below them for so long without someone noticing something out of the ordinary. Yet none saw fit to mention it."

"I guess." He remained quiet for a few beats as they slid down a rather steep decline, until they were again following a zigzag path through the underbrush. "Maybe anyone who would have noticed the creature didn't make it out alive."

"With that situation we would have had far more missing persons reports in the area. Declan's team enquired and according to what they learned, no one has gone missing since a Ferabore named Lisle disappeared in a snow storm almost four years ago. They found her body at the spring thaw."

"Eh." Will's voice conveyed both sympathy and disgust.

"There were no warnings to avoid any areas either. I found it suspicious before Henry and I even started. All places have their superstitions and legends. Yet no one said a word. They were specifically told not to talk to us, perhaps even told not to warn us of anything either."

"And this Lero guy Henry mentioned fits the description of someone they would listen to."

"Those were my thoughts at least." She shrugged one shoulder. "I could be completely off the mark." An unexpected wave of dizziness halted her in her tracks, making Will almost bump into her from behind. Unconsciously, she reached out a hand to his shoulder to steady herself and he gripped her forearm securely.

"Hey, you okay?"

She shook her head gently to clear it and motioned to a rock she managed to spot through her haze. "Just need a rest I think."

He helped her to sit and pulled off her thin pack from her shoulders. Then he knelt near. "Can I take a look?"

"If you feel you must." She mumbled with an assenting wave of her hand.

Will lifted her coat and shirt from her skin and up her spine, taking a moment to scrutinize the damage. "Not bad." He let her clothing fall back down. "Bruising'll make you sore for a day or two, but knowing you, you'll be right as rain in no time."

She smiled. "Glad you agree."

He looked up at her and his smile slipped into a frown. When he stood, he reached a hand out toward her hair.

Instinctively, she pulled away, giving him a confused, startled, and annoyed look.

"Is that blood?"

Helen sighed, but held still when he reached for her again.

His fingers were warm and gentle against her scalp as he spread her hair away to examine the wound. "Not bad either. Not even big enough for stitches." He left off and crouched in front of her. "You still should have told me though. Concussion?"

She shrugged. "Slight."

"Symptoms?" He persisted.

"Headache, nausea, slight dizziness, and increased fatigue."

"You should be resting."

"Hardly the time." She commented dryly, indicating the area around them.

"Still." He stood and looked about. "Why don't we take a ten-minute break? I want to put some butterfly bandages on your head wound."

Trying not to roll her eyes, she unzipped her pack as he got out the medical kit from his, taking out water and one of the energy bars she'd packed. Eating, she hissed as he applied antiseptic ointment.

"Why is it, every time I get hurt, it's 'to the infirmary now Will' and 'you can't work with those injuries'; but when _you _get hurt its 'I'm fine', and 'tally ho', and all that crap?"

She grimaced. "When you get a medical degree and can both diagnose and treat your own injuries, I'll be glad to have one less _constant _visitor to my infirmary."

"Oh, ha ha." He answered sarcastically.

Taking another bite, she couldn't help but smile a little.

He pressed a little on the wound. "There we go. Good as new."

"Thank you." She replied, holding up one of the energy bars to him.

He took it with a grin and sat on another rock nearby. "How do you think the others are doing? I gotta admit, I was a little worried at sending those two alone with Druitt."

"Yes, but it couldn't be helped. I needed you to have a word with the locals, especially their leader, Lero, to see what you could observe. And frankly, climbing a rock wall is not wise when one has even the slightest hint of vertigo."

"Yeah, I could see that." He answered.

"I was having the odd sensation that Henry and I were missing something the last time we were in the village. As though I was seeing something that wasn't passing into my conscious awareness."

"So you brought the expert at awareness."

She shrugged. "Seemed the proper solution."

"Well, I can't promise anything, but I'll give it my best shot."

Finishing her own food, she stood. "We should be going then."

Will shoved the last of his bar into his mouth and followed.

Once Helen and Will arrived in the small town, without incident or sign of Titus along the way, she led them to the little blue cottage down the street from the pub. It was here that Titus' sister, Terra, had said she lived with the Widow Seap and Helen was determined to speak to the girl again. She knocked and waited till it was cracked opened. Though she couldn't see beyond to whoever had opened it, she spoke politely at the figure nonetheless. "Hello. I'm-"

"Dr. Magnus." Terra finished for her, opening the door enough for Helen to see her face. "Did ya-" She stopped, as though a lump blocked her throat. "-find... him?"

"We found some clues, but I'm afraid I'll need to ask more questions to even attempt at a proper interpretation. May we come in?"

Terra looked around nervously, then opened the door just wide enough to let them through. The interior of the house was warm. Cozy chairs sat near a fireplace, old woolen comforters and afghans draped over every edge. The room beyond appeared at first glance to be a kitchen, while another door leading off to the side was most likely a bedroom. The girl motioned to two of the chairs. "Can I get ya coffee, er tea?"

"Tea would be wonderful." Helen replied politely, taking a seat gingerly. She might not need medical attention, but she had little desire to feel her back pain reignite.

Will was watching the two of them, being his observant self but only nodding when Terra turned his way in question. He made a small gesture once the girl's back was turned, one that conveyed concern.

Helen merely inclined her head a little, silently assuring him she was in no pain and flicked a glance at Terra suggesting he should remain silent for the time being.

He seemed to understand and went back to examining their environment.

Terra handed them two steaming cups not long later and took a seat across from them. After a deep breath, she looked Helen in the eyes. "What'd did ye find?"

"You heard of our finding the tunnels below this valley and beyond?"

"Place's always had a bit a labyrinth below the surface. Tain't heard of anyone goin' missing there before though. Not since... well, not fer a long time."

"Not since?" Will asked.

The young Ferabore sat back in her seat. "There's stories. Old ones. But Lero said we're not ta be talkin' 'bout that. Not with strangers."

"Did you hear about what my team and I encountered?"

"Yer people what came told us ya found a creature. One what lived 'neath the ground. Said ye found and rescued the boy from it. 'M glad, the poor lad."

Smiling sadly, Helen took another sip of her tea and kept her eyes on the cup. "We found the boy alive. Yesterday, we found the mother. Dead." A glance up at Terra showed Helen the way her face fell.

"'M sorry. Then, Titus..."

Helen spoke calmly, watching the girl's closely. "We have reason to believe that your brother was in the caves and that he made it out alive."

"How-"

"We found his clothing, as well as signs that he might have come this way. Can you think of any reason why your brother might not have contacted you?"

The girl looked shocked. "No! He would have found a way to let me know he was alright. H-he promised." Her eyes filled with tears.

Glancing over at Will, Helen cleared her throat. "There must be something. Some reason he would make it to the village and still vanish."

Terra looked lost and frightened. "I- I don't know. I can't..."

"Easy." Will said, making calming motions.

Helen watched the frantic motions of the girl's head. She may not have Will's gift, but she didn't think the girl was lying. "What about Lero? Glen said he and your brother weren't getting along."

"They never have. Lero... he's a bit of a bully. Was why Titus ended up leavin' in the first place."

"Because they were fighting?" Will asked, sitting forward.

"Yeah."

"What about?"

"Titus... he was angry at Lero. Cause Lero- he wanted me and Jamie ta get wed."

"Jamie it Lero's son, yes?" Helen asked.

"Yeah." Terra confirmed, squirming a little. "But... I didna want..." She looked away.

Helen looked her up and down, wondering at the blush the girl couldn't contain. It was turning every inch of visible skin a bright beet red. She knew that Ferabore's had difficulty controlling their emotions, mostly their outward reactions to their feelings, but she couldn't think of a reason the girl would be so embarrassed. Casting a glance at Will, she set her cup down on the end table.

He gave her an almost imperceptible nod. "Where can we find Lero?"

Terra looked startled. "H-he's always at the pub."

"Thank you very much, Terra." She stood, touching the girl's arm reassuringly. "As soon as there are any new developments, I'll be sure to keep you informed."

"Course." Terra murmured, watching them leave with a sad look on her face.

Helen wished there was something she could say. The door closed behind her and she walked on with Will, out to the road and wordlessly led the way to Glen Hanserd's home. Hopefully, John would be there with the others. However, she already had a sinking feeling that the pieces of this mystery were falling into place to form a horrible kind of sense.


	9. Like Yells in the Night

Author's Note: Well, this turned out a little differently then I intended. Let's just go with it though, shall we? I love it when the story seems to write itself out. I'll be going on vacation to Arizona without a computer, so I'll try to post sometime at the end of next week if I can. Just an Epilogue after this chapter I think, so it shouldn't be too long. I can't decide if I should have John and Helen together (steam speaking anyway) before the end or not. What do you think? I asked my sister for advice, but she's no help.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Eight: Like Yells in the Night

The smell of damp earth flooded her nostrils. It was coming off the ground like a wave, settling her senses as she breathed deeply. It was almost night time, the setting sun turning the sky a burnt orange. They were near Glen Hanserd's home, just to the side of the front gate. The Ferabore himself wasn't in, so they were waiting out here, idly leaning against the mortared rock. She wanted to speak to the others to be sure Titus wasn't still in the caves before taking Will to talk to anyone else. There was still a missing piece to this whole situation and she needed her facts straight before she went into a potentially volatile situation. The pub where Terra had told them they could find Lero made Helen nervous. Perhaps it was the presence of so much hostility in the air. Perhaps because of so many Ferabore's in such an enclosed area. Either way, she wondered if they would even get the chance to talk to the leader. Hopefully, the locals could be persuaded that they were better allies than enemies.

Since the others hadn't arrived yet, she had to pull up her reserves of patience. They had been waiting it this same spot for almost two hours. By the time the flash of red announced the arrival of her people, John holding onto their shoulders tightly, the sun had disappeared completely, shading the sky more of a lime green and blue now. She was brusque in her greetings she knew, but she was beyond feeling impatient now, rolling on towards downright frustration. She was also nauseous again. Her body and head were telling her she needed rest and a proper meal badly, before her concussion made her pass out. Her people didn't look much better. By the looks on their faces, they hadn't had any luck, but she still inquired.

"Bub-kiss." Kate snarled. "All we found was another way back to the same place. Damn thing goes in a gigantic loop."

"We almost got taken out by another rock slide though. That cave is really unstable." Henry sighed, taking off his own thin pack and setting it next to Will's. Helen still had hers on her back. "Fun times."

"Any luck on your end?" John asked, sliding close to her elbow.

"None. We found nothing that indicated a reason Titus couldn't have gotten home safely." She turned to meet his eyes. "We spoke to Terra though, and I believe her when she says Titus wouldn't have come home and not informed her immediately that he was alive and well. Which leaves..."

"Something happening to him at the village." John growled low.

"Terra says that the community leader was at odds with Titus for many years, even before Titus departed."

"In fact, she says it was the reason Titus left in the first place." Will added.

"You think this guy has something to do with Titus' disappearance?" Kate asked, her top lip curling in distaste.

"It is a possibility." Helen sighed. "Though I don't like the thought of one of his own people doing him any harm. Will and I will have another talk with Glen tomorrow and then ask Lero some questions if we are able. Perhaps we can clear up some of this speculation."

"Take me with you and I promise you will." John said, one side of his mouth tilting in a malicious smile.

Meeting his eye with a frown, she answered as politely as her headache allowed. "I think not. Not to speak to Glen, at least." She closed her eyes as her stomach tilted again.

"Magnus?" Will spoke, obviously noticing. His hand touched her arm lightly.

She opened them immediately, smiling slightly to let her protege know that she was alright. "I'm just tired. Could probably use a decent meal; we all could. John?" As she turned to him, she could see the way his eyes lingered on her head. When he met her gaze, she felt a flutter in her chest. Her voice was quiet. "Take us home?"

He nodded slowly and took hers and Will's shoulders. Suddenly, they were standing in her entry hall again. John vanished again, then reappear clutching a harried looking Henry and Kate.

"Take the night to sleep, eat, and shower. We leave at first light." Helen ordered and watched as they hurried away.

Will lingered, giving her one searching look. "You got this?" He asked.

Smiling, she nodded once and stared at his retreating back until he turned the corner. Then she spoke without turning her head. "I'm fine, John. It's just a bump."

There was silence for a minute.

"So you did strike your head." His tone turned teasing. "Helen, you really haven't changed all that much, have you? You still refuse to admit when you've been knocked down."

"And you still think that I need to." She smiled. Without looking back, she walked away, heading for her rooms.

Will must have told her old friend they were back, because when she came out of her shower there was a gently steaming pot of tea and a tray of food for dinner awaiting her. She smiled wide, taking up one half of a sandwich and consuming it as she perused her map of the valley the Ferabore's resided in. With careful marks, she filled in the information of the tunnel system as they knew it, using GPS, her compass and her memory to sketch out most of their findings. Most of the tunnel system didn't run under the town itself, but further north, under the mountainous terrain that surrounded it. She found Loch Treig to the East, sliding her finger along the marks already on the map.

So consumed was she in her examination, that she didn't here the soft crackle that came from her washroom. If it ghosted the edge of her hearing, she dismissed it as noise from the fire popping away in the grate. When his face pressed into the side of her neck, she almost screamed as she jerked away. Looking up, her startlement turned to anger. "John! Bloody hell!"

He chuckled throatily.

She straightened, tossing down her pen with more force than necessary. "Have you never heard of knocking? Or have all your manners fled with your sanity?"

"No need to be so harsh, Helen." He said quietly but with the laugh still in his voice.

"I am in no mood, John." She warned.

"Oh really?" He bent at her neck again.

Had she been alone, she might have admitted to the rush that flooded through her system. In John's presence though, she stood, putting space between them. "Leave, now."

He sighed. "You cannot stand there and tell me that you dislike my touch so fervently. Not when your own body betrays the truth." He passed around the couch and approached her. One hand reached out to touch her cheek.

She flinched, then clenched her teeth together so hard they ached. It joined her headache seamlessly. "Stop, please."

He pulled his hand away from her face, but didn't stop moving until his chest was mere millimeters from hers.

Not daring to breath, she faced him full on, meeting his intense burning eyes with her own. "John, enough."

"Why? Because you say it is so?" He scoffed quietly. "Do I look like one of your lap dogs, Helen?"

"You look like a man who is in _my_ house." She snapped, feeling edgy with him still so close. If her heart rate didn't decrease soon, she was going to pass out for real. She was getting dizzy. Hyperventilating wasn't a good idea with a concussion throbbing it's way from the wound on her head. Blinking to clear her vision, she unconsciously laid her hands on the hard planes of his chest to steady herself, feeling the breath that stopped short on it's way to his lungs.

Without asking her permission, he half-bent, his arm snaked behind her knees and he lifted her off her feet, just like the day before when she had almost passed out. Then he carried her over to her bed and sat her down on the edge of it.

She stared down at her feet, still bare from after her shower, so that she didn't have to meet his gaze. "I don't need you to take care of me, John."

"And yet I always shall, Helen." He disappeared in a flash.

Feeling drained even as her dizziness abated, she leaned back and slid under the covers on her bed. Maybe she wouldn't sleep well, but she was going to try. For Peter and the promise she had made him. Helen Magnus always kept her word and always would, even if it killed her.

The morning light was harsh in her eyes. Though Helen knew light sensitivity was an after affect of concussion, she still wasn't quite expecting this.

John and Henry were currently running a quick search of the valley, double checking everywhere they could see for any sign of Titus. Kate had stayed behind at the Sanctuary to help her old friend with an abnormal who had taken up residence in the river and was causing trouble.

Will turned toward her expectantly. "You know where to find this guy you want me to speak to?"

"I believe so. Come on." She started down the road, heading north. When they skirted the field where Henry had fallen into the tunnels, they found it cordoned off with warning tape and two guards from the UK Sanctuary watching over it. They nodded respectfully to her as she passed and she returned the gesture before following the road further up to the north field Glen had said he spent most of the day in.

Sure enough, she spotted him sitting on one of the rocks near the edge of the open field where he could keep an eye on the animals roaming it. He stood as she drew closer, eying Will uncertainly.

"Glen." She greeted him warmly, hoping to put him at ease.

"Dr. Magnus. Good to see ya ag'in." He answered shaking her hand.

"This is another colleague and friend of mine, Dr. Will Zimmerman. We had some more questions for you."

"About?" Glen asked after shaking Will's hand.

"About Lero."

Glen shifted uncomfortably. "Why?"

It was Will that answered. "We're curious why he and Titus never got along. Or why everyone here seems to be frightened of the guy."

"We're not scared." Glen said, eyes skittering around the field.

Surreptitiously, Helen took a step backward as Will took one forward. He was doing just what she had brought him for, reading the man and his reactions and he didn't need her help to do so. She watched the conversation with a pleased smile barely curling her lips.

"Of course you're scared. So is Terra."

At the name, Glen looked Will in the eyes. "Lero wouldna hurt Terra."

"But he would hurt others, right?" Will persisted.

The Ferabore just looked uncomfortable again.

"Okay, we're here to talk about Titus. How far do think Lero would go to make sure that Terra wed his son, Jamie? Would he hurt Titus?"

"I don't know. Look, Titus got hisself into a lot of arguments with Lero, but he ain't the sort to get in over his head. He can take a lot." Glen rubbed at his face. "If- if he'd just minded his own business."

Will leaned back, looking Glen up and down. "What does that mean?"

"It weren't any of his business who Terra married." The Ferabore growled. "Whether it was Jamie or... or anybody else."

Will glanced her way.

She furrowed her brow, wondering what her protege had just caught on to.

"Anybody... like you, Glen?" Will's voice was gentle.

Helen felt her eyes widen in surprise as she stared at the way the Ferabore before them was turning beet red.

"Terra is in love with you, isn't she? And you're in love with her."

Glen looked away. "He wanted ta take her away. It'd be worse than seeing her with Jamie. She'd be gone." He sounded incredibly sad. "Lero said she'd be gone fer good."

Will looked at her again, this time horror in his eyes and reflected in his voice as he continued. "Glen... what did you do?"

Helen wanted to take a giant step backward as her stomach plummeted. What had happened in this town?

"What did Lero tell you to do?" Will asked again, an edge to his voice.

Shaking his head, Glen gestured without meeting their eyes. "Thought it'd be done with when Titus first disappeared. But then he comes back ravin' 'bout a monster, one from stories. Just legends. Said that Terra was comin' with him whether Lero liked it or not." When the Ferabore looked up, his eyes were sad and tortured. "Lero said he'd gone crazy. But I knew- Titus don't lie an' he ain't no nut. Then, that lady came and... Lero said not to tell nobody. Told everyone to keep quiet and not tell any strangers 'bout... And Titus, he can take a lot. Don't ya see? Lero said he'd let Titus go after the weddin'!" He seemed desperate that they believe him.

"No." Helen breathed in denial. Her brain wasn't working anymore, her chest seeming to fill her entire being with the it's inability to draw in a breath.

Glen looked at her, guilt and regret shadowing his features. "It was just 'sposed to be till the wedding was over. N-No one was supposed to come lookin' fer him."

An ill feeling crept up from her stomach as it boiled in anger, and Helen started forward before she even knew she was moving. Reacting quickly, Will grabbed her around the stomach, holding her back. "You-you _monster_! Lilian would still be alive if-"

"Magnus." Will's voice was soft, his face swaying into her vision.

She stopped struggling against him, looking him in the eye. Though she could barely see around the tears in her own eyes, the pity she saw there only made her angrier. She shoved his arm away and turned from the both of them as Will voiced another question she could barely hear.

"Where is he, Glen? Where is Titus?"

Slowly, Helen crouched down. Beside her, Will did the same. They had escorted Glen back to his home and used zip ties to secure him there, then followed his directions. The shed near Lero's residence had a basement room few knew about, even among the locals. The grate was locked tight with a kind of old fashioned padlock. Even if she could shoot the lock off there appeared to be more on the other side. She could see something inside the darkened basement, so she bent down further, peering through the grate that was trying to obscure her vision. There, just barely in sight, still as stone on the hard floor, was a hand. Her mind flashed back to Lilian's lifeless hand jutting from a rock fall and she had to swallow hard to keep from sobbing or throwing up.

"Titus? Titus!" Will yelled, but it didn't make the limb stir. "Is he alive?" He asked, still looking in at the unmoving appendage.

Standing, she slipped her gloves into her pocket and set her shoulders. "Impossible to tell. He's not responding to his own name. If nothing else, he is most assuredly incapacitated. I know of only one way to find out." She started walking and didn't stop even when Will called her name. He followed behind her at a trot. Once on the main road again, she could see John and Henry coming toward them. John looked angry, so she assumed he had spoken to Glen. She turned sharply in the direction of the pub. It was almost impossible to feel her legs as they moved her quickly toward the entrance without even a word to any of them. Apparently, none was required. A tingling sensation in her shoulder-blade told her John was close behind. Even if she couldn't see him, she could feel him slightly behind and to her right like they were somehow connected. Based on how she was feeling and how John had reacted before, she knew they somewhat were, at least in their anger. They moved in sync, like a practiced routine remembered perfectly even after all this time. She felt herself slipping back into that same familiar dance, even stepping slightly to the left so that he could open the door for her as had been engrained in her very core during her childhood.

The inside of the pub was darkened, with low lighting creating long shadows where even more people were seated than had been present when she'd first been here. She spotted Terra off to the side, but her eyes were only for the Ferabore behind the long bar as she approached.

Without preamble, she held out her hand. "The key." She demanded.

"Pardon?" Lero jeered. The dark fur beneath his black eyes quivered slightly.

"You have Titus." She whispered fiercely.

Lero looked round at those gathered behind her. "Nonsense."

Helen turned to John. "It's the only thing that made any sense. Titus never would have left Terra wondering where he was. Nor would he have stayed silent if he found out Lilian was coming for him. He loved her and he loved Peter. Knowing what might be down there, he wouldn't have let them go into such danger. So he clearly didn't know beforehand and couldn't tell her after he got out. But Lero did. Glen told us everything. How Titus was disrupting Lero's plans for a wedding between his son and Terra. How he helped Lero drug Titus because he couldn't bear the thought of her disappearing and never coming back."

"No." Terra gasped quietly behind them. "Glen wouldna- he-" A tear slid down her cheek as she shook her head.

"He admitted that Lero warned everyone not to talk to Lilian, or to warn her and Peter about the legends of what lay beneath the surface here. Lero knew what was down there John, he just didn't care. He _let her go_ down there with Peter." Her voice caught.

"It's true." Will confirmed gently, laying a hand on Terra's quivering shoulder.

John's eyes glinted dangerously. Slowly, he walked around the bar and Helen didn't even try to stop him. Her blood was thundering in her ears, rage at such senseless death making her vision dim slightly. John struck Lero hard in the gut and she was surprised at the rush of good feeling that washed over her seeing the man doubled over.

Lero swung back but John easily avoided it and in a flash was gone. He reappeared just as suddenly behind the man, striking again and throwing him over the bar. "Lilian was the granddaughter of a friend!" Then he was in front of the man again, grabbing Lero by the throat and lifted him up high. His voice lowered dangerously, becoming that genteel lilt that always curdled Helen's gut. "You made a mistake letting her walk to her death, old boy."

The powerful Ferabore fought against his grip and managed to jerk himself free, stumbling as he landed.

Just smiling maliciously, John came after him.

Lero backed up as though seeking help, but the other Ferabores in the room backed up too, looking on without sympathy.

"Lilian's blood is on your hands." Will said soberly. "You almost cost the death of a _child_."

"They never should have come here!" Lero snarled.

John grabbed the man again and brought a knife from seemingly out of nowhere to place at the Ferabore's throat.

"Druitt, that's enough." Will grated.

The blade bit into the flesh a little, drawing a trickle of blood.

"Magnus, make him stop." Will said, voice raising an octave.

Helen didn't speak or move. She wasn't even really seeing what was going on. All she could think of was that shimmering bracelet on Lilian's lifeless wrist. All she could hear were Ethel's quiet, broken sobs.

"Magnus!" Will shouted desperately, grabbing her arm.

She glance down at his grip, then back at John. At last seeing the all too familiar knife, her voice shook when she spoke. "John."

He glanced her way.

"Put the knife away." Helen made her voice harder, more stern.

"I live by my own standards, Helen. He killed Lilian, just as surely as he kept the truth from her."

"John." She barked. "You gave me your word."

He turned to look at her. "You want him dead just as much as I do."

She smiled humorlessly. "Perhaps. But I will not let his blood stain my hands as Lilian's stains his. We both know it would, whether _you_ wield the blade or I."

John growled, then flung the Ferabore from him in disgust.

The Ferabore's grabbed his arms and Terra slowly approached, her own growl issuing from deep in her throat. She reached in the man's shirt pocket and retrieved a set of keys.

Taking them from her hand, Helen handed it over to Will as Lero tried to shake himself free.

"Will... get Titus out of there. John, go with Will and take Titus straight to my Sanctuary. He needs immediate medical attention. We'll be waiting for you at Glen Hanserd's home." She stepped carefully between the two departing men and the gaze of the angry Ferabore.

Lero tried to take a step toward her, but was held securely in place by his own people who thankfully matched him for strength. Still, Henry stepped just slightly in front of her, silently putting his own threat into the air.

"You, Lero, are coming with me." She said calmly, meeting his eye. "You will be held responsible for the death of Lilian Matherson and the attempt on Peter's life, as well as kidnapping. You will find that _no one_ harms a member of _my_ Sanctuary, and Titus... he belongs to _our_ family too now."

"Can I..." Terra hesitated.

"You are free to do whatever you wish, Terra, just as Titus always wanted for you." Helen answered gently. "If you want to come with us, then by all means, do so." She gestured toward the door.

The young Ferabore nodded resolutely, then pulled Lero's hands behind his back roughly. Henry handed her some zip ties with a smirk and they led the bound man from the pub without a hint of protest from the other watching Ferabore's. It seemed as far as they were concerned, Lero was no longer a part of their community.


	10. Dark Panels on a White Wall

Author's Note: This one earns its M-rating in my opinion. You have been warned.

While I was thinking about how I wanted this whole thing to end, this was born. It was written in conjunction with the Epilogue, so it also took a while. Again, not exactly what I had in mind, but the story wanted it to go like this. So... whatever, it's my story and I'll make it the way I want to. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter Nine: Dark Panels on a White Wall

Pulling the bloodied gloves from her hands as she exited the surgery room, Helen sighed. When John had brought her and Will back to her Sanctuary, she had immediately started her work for fear that leaving Titus in limited medical care would adversely affect his health. Her old friend was very capable, but he didn't know the Ferabore systems the way that she did. Her examination found that Titus had broken his leg in a drug addled attempt at escape some days before, so she had had to perform minor surgery to repair the damage. She grimaced. Re-breaking bones was never one of her favorite aspects of her job.

Titus was sleeping soundly now though, on an IV drip and blood transfusion to counteract the starvation, dehydration, and internal bleeding he had endured. His leg was elevated in a sling and his vitals steady. With his prognosis good, she remained hopeful. Her careful work on his leg meant he should regain full mobility. Given his strength and relative youth, it seemed he would make a complete recovery only given some time to recuperate.

An anxious Terra accosted her the second she exited, with Henry, Will, and Kate close behind her. After she explained the details to them, letting them know her old friend wasn't going to leave the Ferabore's side while she was absent, she slipped back to her rooms as they started their relieved chatter. She was hoping for some peace and quiet in which she could relax and not think about Lilian, or Lero, or anything else that was still so close to making her blood boil. She should have known she would not find it. Once she entered her bedroom, she could almost immediately feel his presence. She turned to face John as he closed the door behind his back.

It had been some hours since she had last seen him. He wore a troubled look, so she cautiously kept her voice low. "You weren't waiting with the others."

He said nothing, his eyes never leaving the floor.

"Titus will be alright." She tried, confused by his silence. "I've arranged for medical transportation back to the UK Sanctuary tomorrow morning. I thought-" Helen stopped when John reached for her. He didn't even give her a chance to ask a single question. The tingling of his teleportation rushed through her system and she found herself standing in Ethel's living room again.

In the dining area, Peter and Ethel both looked up. They didn't speak at first, just stared and didn't breathe.

She smiled gently through her own surprise, glancing at John. He could have given her a moment's warning. She returned her gaze to Ethel and Peter, stepping forward.

"Titus?" Peter breathed toward her, tears in his eyes.

Helen met those soulful eyes. Unable to speak for a moment, Helen smiled wider and nodded.

Peter shouted for joy, turning and hugging his great-grandmother fiercely.

"We'll be arriving at the UK Sanctuary on a medical transport in the morning. He's injured, but he's going to be just fine." She said, looking at Ethel's wrinkled face and bright eyes over the boy's shoulder. The old woman still looked sad, but happy now too, and Helen knew the feeling. When Ethel mouthed a thank you, she nodded.

Peter ran to her and hugged her round the middle. "Thank you! Thank you, Dr. Magnus!"

She smiled down at him, then looked up at John and her joy faded.

He had an odd expression on his face. It was one she could almost describe, like maybe she had seen it before, but still, she couldn't quite decipher it. She frowned at him, wondering what in the world had gotten into him.

Following her gaze, Ethel frowned too, obviously troubled by John, but her face cleared when Peter returned to her side.

For her part, Helen gave the ecstatic Peter a grin. Without any more warning than the first time, John hurried forward and grabbed Helen again before she could say any more, taking them back to her room in a flash. Though he released her as soon as they arrived, he still didn't speak. Instead, he just sat on the edge of her bed as though exhausted.

Perhaps he was and she just hadn't noticed before. "John, what-" She froze when he reached for her hand. After a moments hesitation, she let him take it and couldn't suppress the tremble in her arm when he kissed it. It was though it shot straight to her heart, making it hurt bitterly. Her heart had been through so much in just the past week. It remained broken over the loss of Lilian, over the pain Ethel and Peter were feeling. Over the horrible things Lero had done and that Glen had helped him do. It awakened her own memories of losing Ashley, something that still bit at her heart like a deep chill. It probably always would. She knew from experience that nothing, not even Titus' survival, could heal a wound like that and she empathized with lot of them.

John moved his lips to the inside of her wrist and kissed the sensitive skin there. She closed her eyes. Maybe because she didn't start yelling at him, he pulled her closer with a gentle tug.

She told herself she should resist him, should pull back, but her body wouldn't comply with the command. Frankly, she was tired, and he was being too gentle with her for her survival instincts to kick in like usual. Her body was exhausted on both a physical level and for all the sickening things she had found both in those caves and above them. It wasn't something easily fixed by simply getting more sleep. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that John's body was feeling the same way.

He clasped her hips, bunched up her shirt and trailed his lips across the bared flesh of her flat stomach.

She didn't make a move but for the tremble that spread through her entire body, even though her rational mind was screaming at her to make him stop. This, however, wasn't rational. Her unbreakable attraction for him hadn't been rational for more than a century. _They_ weren't rational.

The three splitting, warring factions of her own self- her heart, body and head- left her at a standstill, focusing only on John's hot breath flowing over her skin. She let it run through her veins, fog her mind, dull her reactions and heighten her senses, much as it had used to. Back in a time when love had been the perfect veil, like wool over her eyes. Right now, she wanted to lose herself in it. To not feel the aches and pains of her consciousness. To be consumed. At this moment, she ached with a desire she no longer had any energy to shun.

When he stood and lifted the hem of her shirt up, she didn't stop him from pulling it clear over her head despite the fact that she was only wearing a bra underneath. Nor did she pull away when he ran a hand over her collar bone. She simply watched him. As he reached out with his other hand toward her face, she flinched. After all this time, she supposed it was instinct.

That made him pause though, watching her calculatingly. "Helen."

She swallowed. When he said her name like that, she felt her insides melt like ice in the sun.

Slowly, he reached out again but avoided her face this time. Instead he touched the waistline of her trousers.

Teeth clenched and eyes closed once again, she grabbed his wrist, hard enough that she knew she was cutting off his circulation.

It still didn't deter him from snapping open the clasp. Didn't stop his other hand from grabbing the zipper and sliding it down.

She didn't really want it to stop him. Her clutching hand grew slack without her permission.

After a moment, John slid his jacket and his own shirt off and got even closer to her, his bare chest pressing close, pushing the pants from her hips to make room for his roving fingers.

She shook when one of his hands trailed up her bruised back.

He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, then backed her up till she was forced to lay on her bed. He slid down to her feet and pulled her pants the rest of the way off her legs with insistent tugs.

For a while Helen just lay there, feeling the warm air, the charged feeling, the rapid beating of her heart against her sternum and ribs. She looked up so she wouldn't look down to see where John had gone. A part of her hoped he would just disappear, like usual. Even as she stared at the dark wood of her headboard, her mind was chanting- _Just leave, just leave, just leave._

Then he touched her ankle and her whole body shuddered, wanting more. Screaming for it. She felt him start kissing her leg, up to the soft, sensitive flesh of the inner part of her thigh. "John." She breathed tremulously. Just his touch was making it hard for her to draw breath again.

He backed off, yanked off his pants and crawled up her body to her lips. For the first time in too many years to count, with his weight supported on his hands to either side of her, he kissed her there.

It was like dying, or breathing again after dying. She had done just that, often enough to recognize the feeling. The way he tasted wasn't quite the way she remembered it, but the inconsistency was lost on her as he pulled off her bra, kissing down to her shoulder. His hands were making her desperate for more contact.

For once, she didn't let herself think, didn't give herself the time. Instead, she kissed him back desperately, wanting to lose herself in the sensations. Maybe then she could ignore that dim part of her still struggling for control. She attacked the small hollow just behind and beneath his ear and his answering groan made her heart skip several more beats.

There was a sudden knock at her door.

She pulled away as if burned, starting up and trying to push away. If one of her people saw her like this...

John growled and held her down with his knees on either side of her legs and a grip on her wrists that bruised.

She held still.

When another, more insistent knock came at the door, he pulled her trembling body close to him.

The flush over her skin was magnified by the sensation of his teleporting. She barely managed to glance around to see they were in a darkened, secluded place before he was kissing her again, drawing her back in. He levered up to pull off his undershorts frantically.

Her underwear ripped as he tore it from her body and then- before she could think, much less protest- he was inside her. Unable to help it, she sobbed, clutching round his shoulders, trying desperately to steady the downward spiral she had found herself in. When he moved she threw her head back, looking at the wall of the room he had brought her to that was nearest to her head as though it could somehow anchor her. Dark wooden paneling lined the lower half, while bleach white paint stretched up the rest of the way to the ceiling. It seemed to taunt her; that white, clean expanse. It seemed to bounce back nothing but her own reflection, which was something she didn't want to see. So she clutched at the dark paneling, her nails scratching at the edges. It was _like_ her, a fitting incarnation for her current turmoil.

John bruised the backs of her hips; trying to get closer, deeper. As though he wanted the two of them to occupy the same space. She thought she would drown, consumed by fire, blasted by wind and buried alive all at the exact- Same. Single. Moment.

His movements grew rough and harsh, his face hard even as he looked down at her.

Pain joined pleasure and she would have laughed if she could. It seemed no matter how_ bloody_ hard she tried, she could never achieve one without the other. She met his gaze despite the tears obscuring hers.

It was a beautiful, terrible thing to see into his eyes. The lurking monster and the desperate lover. A duality she didn't want to remember. She shuttered her vision with her eyelids as though she could shut out the truth, bent her head and muffled her cries into his neck, holding onto him for dear life.

John returned her to her bed and vanished in a flash without uttering a single word.

She simply lay on the covers, naked and shaking, though not from the chill that had seeped into her rooms. When shaking morphed into quiet sobs, she buried them in her pillow. Trying to force herself to stop, she turned and climbed off the bed, stumbling slightly. Her body ached in a whole new way now. It had been far too long since she'd had any relations, her body wasn't used to feeling this way. Even as she stepped into the shower, she was well into regretting her lapse. That's what it was. Nothing more or less. This... thing with John- It was a sometimes wonderful, dark, twisted, horrible, exhilarating... oh so complicated thing. Just like John himself. And her, she supposed. He was like her own personal Achilles heel and she cursed herself for it.

Still berating herself as she dressed, she picked up her discarded shirt, pants, and after a search under the bed, her bra to stow them away, out of sight and hopefully, memory. Her underwear was lost, ripped and discarded only John knew where. She exited her rooms, deciding to go to her office before the night completely slipped away. It must be well after midnight by now.

Henry ran into her headlong coming around a corner.

Helen stumbled, but managed to stay upright.

The HAP wasn't so lucky. He stared up at her from the floor for a minute before his shocked voice shouted out down the hall. "Doc!"

"Sorry, Henry, are you alright? You really should watch where you are going."

He accepted her helping hand up, but continued to gape at her. "Me? Forget that, are _you_ okay? You scared the _hell_ out of us all, disappearing like that! We thought something terrible had happened to you. Will was the first to notice you were gone but when he went to talk to you, you weren't in your rooms, your office, or the infirmary. We couldn't find you anywhere!"

"John took me to tell Ethel Linaman and Peter the good news face to face. I apologize if I startled anyone."

Blinking, he titled his head from side to side. "Oh. Yeah, I guess... okay." He grabbed the radio from his belt. "I found her, guys."

"Is she okay?" Came over the radio.

Henry looked her up and down.

She made a face at him.

"Besides looking a little tired and really annoyed, I'd say she's good."

"Where the hell did she-"

Further annoyed by the answering shout, Helen snatched the radio from Henry's hand. "Where I was is none of your affair, William. Please call off the search team or whatever other ridiculous thing you've begun and let everyone get to sleep. If you have so much energy, you can return to work. You still have a veritable mountain of paperwork to hand over to me." With that, she deposited the radio back in Henry's surprised hand and continued her walk to her office a little faster than before.

_Really?_ She thought in exasperation. _What were they, her governesses?_ Like she couldn't very well take care of herself! She ignored the small part of her that whispered that she obviously couldn't. Hadn't John proven that? Hadn't he smashed all her defenses and wormed his way back inside her life? Inside of her? Growling in frustration, she shoved open her door and just barely restrained herself from slamming it shut. Calling herself eight kinds of fool, using words she never would have said aloud, she strode over to her desk.

It wasn't long till a quiet knock came lightly at her door.

By then her temper had calmed somewhat, but she still breathed deeply to settle herself further and cleared her throat before she spoke. "Come in!" She called, looking hard at a paper in her hand she was not even interested in reading. From where she was standing next to her desk, her light shone through the paper, putting lines of backwards letters under the front ones, so really she wouldn't have been able to read it even if she did want to. The draft from the opening door made it flutter in her hand.

Strangely, she knew who entered without having to look. "Yes, Will?"

Her protege was quiet for several moments, so long that she glanced up at him. He was just standing in the doorway, staring at her, brow furrowed in concern.

"What is it, Will?" She finally asked, trying not to sound irritated. Her negative feelings weren't for him so much as for herself and she had to remind herself of that.

"Where were you?" His tone was gently curious, not accusatory.

Helen sighed, slightly put at ease. "John took me to speak to Ethel Linaman and Peter."

He was silent again for several moments. "You were gone for quite a while."

"It took quite a while." She answered, grinning slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice that it didn't meet her eyes if she only glanced his way. There was shifting on the edge of her periphery vision. Maybe that was a bit much to hope. "Please, Will, what is it?"

"I came by your room. You left your clothes on the floor."

"I'm no allowed to make a mess in my own rooms? If that were the Sanctuary rule Will, I'm afraid you and Henry would be thrown out." That earned her at least half a smile. "I was in a hurry."

"Alright, but...you're still hiding something from me, I can tell. You've been hiding it since Druitt showed up." It was meant as a statement, an observed fact, but it still made her bristle.

"Oh?" She answered, looking up at him. "And what is that?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. You're as good at keeping secrets as I am at figuring them out."

Her head tilted at him. "Secrets is rather harsh terminology. Perhaps I simply like my privacy."

"Maybe." He huffed. Then he was shaking his head, meeting her eyes with a pained expression.

"What the hell is going on, Magnus?"

"I don't know what you me-"

"Like hell." He answered over her, his tone one of remonstration. "Your odd behavior, that crap with Druitt- I mean-" He groped around in search of words. "What the hell? Why didn't you stop him?"

Lero. Of course, she should have known he would want to speak to her about that. She walked around her desk, putting the heavy wooden thing between them. It was a defensive move, she knew -or at least she knew he would see it that way- and cursed herself for it, but she needed room to breathe. "I did." She pointed out defensively.

He ran a hand through his hair, growling in frustration. "Damn it, Magnus... I mean, why did I have to _make_ you stop him?"

She stared down at the paper still in her hands and let the silence stretch as she searched for an answer. When she finally answered, her voice shook. "He killed Lilian."

His answer was strangled. "That doesn't justify murder."

"Why do you think I _did_ stop him, Dr. Zimmerman?" She bit out scathingly.

He made a face.

She just shook her head, trying to regain her cool. "_Will_... Unlike what you seem to believe, I do not let mob mentality rule my actions."

Will seemed speechless. "But you-you _did_ hesitate! Like you would have let him- Magnus... you..." He stopped his spluttering and flopped down onto her couch in seeming defeat. "You know-..." Still he fumbled.

"No, actually, I don't know, William. Why don't you elucidate?" Her voice turned steely as her annoyance flared.

He got to his feet again, glowering, frustrated at his own inability to articulate what he wanted to. "You've been acting weird since Druitt showed up. What has been going on, Magnus? With you and Druitt."

Helen resolutely didn't meet his eyes.

"Whatever it is, it's making you act... strangely. There is no way you would have even hesitated to stop him if you weren't being adversely effected. You're letting him get to you."

She didn't speak, but silently relayed that he had absolutely no idea.

"I saw him leave the other day." Will continued. "When I came in, you looked like you'd just been strangled. You looked afraid, you were breathing hard. You were even shaking, for crying out loud!"

"What happens between John and I is none of your affair." She murmured.

He sighed. "I didn't say it _was_, Magnus, but when it starts effecting your judgment in other areas-"

"You honestly believe that had anything to do with John, Will?" She shot back. "It did not. "

"Than what?" He asked in exasperation. "Because I have been trying to think of the answer and all I got is the pressure of the search, losing Lilian, finding out what that sick guy did to his own friend, your injuries, and Druitt. While I admit that's a whole hell of a lot, only Druitt makes you act like this." He sat on her couch again, leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

She glanced furtively at him, wondering what he would do now but unwilling to answer. She wasn't sure if she knew the reason herself. She was too confused to figure it out.

When he spoke, it wasn't anything like what she was expecting to hear from him. "You brought me here, to the Sanctuary, because of my abilities to see what others can't. Can I be honest with you about what I see?"

Taken aback by his words and soft voice, Helen put down the papers she had been pretending to be absorbed in. Slowly, she came around her desk and leaned back against the edge so she was facing him. "I would be insulted by anything less than honesty from you, Will. You know that."

He took a deep breath. "T-There was a woman I once met when I was working with the FBI. She was outwardly a very capable person. Strong and confident. There were moments though, when I could see her shrink in on herself. Moments when she became secretive, hiding her whereabouts and parts of her skin like she had some sort of disease." He looked up to meet her eyes. "It wasn't until later that I learned that she was being abused by her husband."

Helen shifted. "I'm not certain what you're getting at." Though she had a troubling idea.

"Don't you?" He turned more fully to face her, taking a deep breath for courage. "Magnus... you could be a reference in a textbook. A classic victim of abuse."

She scoffed, rather startled. That wasn't exactly what she had seen coming. "Do I look like a victim to you?"

"Frankly, yes. When you allow yourself to be human. I can even see you pulling at your sleeves, trying to keep them down. Hiding something else."

In the middle of said action, she cleared her throat and put her hands on the desk to keep them still.

"Hiding things from me isn't something you normally do."

"And normally John is not here. Is that what you're getting at, Will? That the two are connected?"

He shook his head, not in negation, but seeming disbelief. "You're too hard on yourself, you know. You blame yourself for so many things. For not being able to help Druitt all those years ago. Hell, you even blame yourself for still loving him, don't you? " His voice lowered to a whisper. "You blame yourself for Ashley's death."

Uncomfortable, she looked away.

"For Lilian's death too." He added just as gently. "You hold yourself responsible for everything. As though you could have changed the outcome of what happened when you weren't even there!" Will leaned toward her to show his sincerity and fervor.

The memory of the Lilian's lifeless body turned her stomach. "Maybe I could have." Her tone lowered. "Maybe...-just maybe."

It was his turn to scoff. "No, Magnus. That's just you blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault, just like any battered woman."

"Will."

"Let's run it down then." He sat forward, on the very edge of the couch. "Abusers use fear," He ticked them off on his fingers. "-guilt, shame, and intimidation to wear down their victims. Tell me, to my face, that Druitt doesn't do just that. Saying that the guy has a bad or unpredictable temper is like saying the_ atom bomb_ is 'a little harsh'. What if he turns on you? What if he attacks you, like last time? Just because he hasn't hit you yet, doesn't mean he won't."

"That wasn't him, Will, you know that." She mumbled.

"That's just it, when he can't control himself, when that creature takes over... what? We're just supposed to forget what he does? We're expected to take his help when he's acting without murderous intent and trust him? I'm supposed to just stand here when I can see the effect he's having on you?" His laughter at that held no humor and made her wince slightly. "It's like you're in some kind of constant battle with him and things like that wear at a person. Victims tend to start thinking that they deserve to be hurt or mistreated. They think that if they were just more perfect, more capable, if they could just be stronger, it would stop. Eliminate the abusers reasons and it won't happen again right? But it does. They just find new excuses, new reasons."

She clenched her teeth.

"Usually, there's love there. The people being hurt love the person hurting them. It's why it doesn't stop, why it's allowed to continue, to go through the cycle of violence again and again. But it _has_ to stop! I know you loved Druitt. Maybe you still do. At least a part of you still does, I know that, I can see it. But he's changing you, Magnus." His expression twisted in unbelief. "You almost let him do it. You almost let him kill someone right in front of you! You've been in this... twisted kind of relationship for more than a century, as he haunts your steps, and you let it go on, because you still want-"

"You have no idea what I want, William." She spoke up, though her voice trembled.

He looked at her in all seriousness. "Maybe not, but I do know _you_, at least well enough to guess." His eyes met hers and she did feel it. Shame. As though he could possibly know what had happened a little over an hour ago. "People who are abused are stuck, trapped and in need of help. They may even believe that if they were strong enough to resist, they could help the person hurting them. You-" He stopped, shaking his head with a gusty, deep breath. "He apologizes for hurting you, tells you he loves you and all's supposed to be forgiven?"

She closed her eyes, something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

"Physical injury may be the most obvious danger, Magnus, but emotional and psychological abuse can have consequences just as severe. It makes you feel helpless, desperate, and alone."

She remained still.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... You don't have to put up with this. The first step to breaking free is recognizing that you're being abused. Once you acknowledge the reality of the situation, then you can get the help you need. And we're all here to help you. You're not alone, Magnus. You can change this. No one should live in fear of someone they love."

Looking at him through her eyelashes, she kept her voice low. "And what exactly do you propose, William? What do you want of me?"

Eyes looking watery, Will frowned at her sympathetically. "_I_ want to help you."

"How?" It came out as barely more than a breath.

"I-I don't know. Any way that I can."

She sighed and shook her head. "You spin a very compelling tale, Will, but your training and analysis won't work so easily on me. As I told you once before, I'm not so common... and neither is John."

He pursed his lips and lifted his shoulders, perhaps believing that she wasn't listening to him.

Her heart went out to him then. Because she _was_ listening. She always listened to him, even if he didn't realize it. He was trying his best in a situation over his head and his own heart was in the right place. He wanted to help her, but honestly, she doubted anyone ever could. Heavily, she pushed off the desk, walked over and sat in the chair across from him. "Will. I do appreciate you being there to help me. To make me realize what I was... or I suppose _wasn't_ doing so that I _could_ stop John before he killed Lero right there and then. I really am thankful. But... there are some things you cannot help me with. John is one of them." It was hard to meet his eyes. "You want me to be honest with you? To not hide like some battered woman? Very well." Carefully, she peeled back the sleeves of the blazer she was wearing to reveal her wrists. Black and blue bruises crossed the tendons and veins, slipping over the bone to the backs of her hands and curling into the center.

Will sat forward and handled her arm gently, turning it this way and that to examine. "Geez, Magnus." He breathed.

"While I admit John does follow many of your guidelines, he can never fit any mold you possess, William. It is in the very nature of who we are."

"This... this still shouldn't happen Magnus."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Perhaps not, but it does, and no doubt shall." Her eyes trailed down to the marks. If he thought these were bad, she shuddered to think what he would say if he were to see the ones John left on her hips. "I was the one that let this happen."

Will opened his mouth, eyes sparking, but stopped when she held up her hand.

"I know, Will, but I don't fit your molds any more than John does. I say that, because I truly did let this happen. Gave him permission you might say." She stared at her arms, then pulled the cloth back down. "I was tired." She admitted shallowly. Swallowing was difficult, but she made it happen so she could keep speaking. "Maybe that wouldn't make sense to most people, but it's all I have left."

"Magnus." He reached out and touched her hand.

She met his gaze. It held sympathy and maybe just a hint of understanding. For that, she smiled at him. "I know, Will. But it's all right. Really." She stood. "Especially when I have you watching my back."

"Always Magnus, you know that."

"I do, Will. And I doubt you'll ever know how thankful I am for that."


	11. Epilogue

Author's Note: Oh my gosh, I am so sick right now! That would be why this is so much later than I intended. I decided to leave this on a dark note, in following with the rest of it.

Anyway, Epilogue time. Thanks so much for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Epilogue: What Hurts the More for It

Bright morning sunlight filtered in through the planes double paned windows, making Helen's screen hard to read. She squinted at it hard, twisting this way and that to find a good angle. Across the aisle, lounging in a seat beside a gently snoring Henry, Will chuckled at her.

She sent an annoyed glare his way, one without malice, not too upset that he was basically giggling at her. Despite the fact that her protege spent entirely too much time smirking, in her opinion, for one so young and relatively inexperienced. Though she kept one baleful eye pointed enough in his direction to easily see him in her periphery, she continued to adjust without pause. If he hadn't insisted so vehemently on accompanying her, Henry, Terra, and an unconscious and prone Titus on this medical transport, she would have gladly left him behind. Ever since their discussion late last night, he had been watching her like... well, like a psychiatrist.

The captain's voice came over the speaker, announcing their descent to a small airfield not far outside of London. Beside her, Terra was gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles were turning pale, too terrified to even look out the window. Obviously the Ferabore didn't spend much time flying.

The landing was bumpy, startling Henry awake as the wheels met the pavement. Terra switched from gripping her seat to clutching Helen's forearm as tightly as possible. The ride into London wasn't much smoother either, and was also cramped and hot. Helen tried to remain poised as she sat in the corner, monitoring Titus carefully.

They arrived at the Sanctuary while it was still morning, the haze of deepening warmth making the air thick and humid somehow without dispelling the bite of chill. The transfer to one of the UK Sanctuary's small, private rooms was handled smoothly. Equipment and proper set up was already in place for their use.

Henry shortly excused himself from their company, heading off into the corridor at a determined pace. She and Will shared a grin. They both knew where the HAP was going. Very shortly, Christopher would no doubt find himself challenged to a rematch.

With great care, Helen went about slowly bringing Titus out of his drug-induced stupor. She triple checked his vitals, as Ferabore's had a tendency to react adversely without a moment's notice to the medication she had been giving him and she wasn't of a mind to be covered in vomit today of all days. Once his black opal eyes were open and aware, she made sure he was lucid with a series of questions even though it was a little difficult to keep his attention off Terra, since she was crying quietly. Finally, she stepped aside to record her findings and let Will do the talking. It was one of the reasons she had allowed the curious young man to come along. If she had to tell one more person about Lilian's death, she was going to be sick.

When Titus broke down into sobs on Terra's shoulder after hearing the news, Helen turned away quickly to face the wall, keeping her expression carefully controlled. She couldn't pretend she wasn't sad, but she could keep the hurt from making her cry as well. By the end of Will's explanation, Titus was silent and still, only staring at them all with shock and unable to say a word. It was some time before he choked out what sounded to her ears like an old Gaelic curse.

"'M so sorry, Titus." Terra murmured gently to her brother, hand still holding his tightly.

"It's me fault." He groaned. "She came lookin' fer me and died cause I was too blind to be watchin' me back."

"You trusted your friend." Will said consolingly. "That's not wrong."

"But poor Peter and... Lilian..."

Helen's annoyance flared, getting the better of her. "Lilian died because she believed in something much bigger than you."

They all stared at her, Titus with his black eyes sparkling with more tears.

"She believed the same thing as her grandmother before her, that the merit of a person, human or abnormal, is determined by their character, not their species." A deep breath calmed her enough to soften her voice. "Family isn't always born, but often made."

Smiles answered her fervent words, though Will's mouth was still hanging wide open in surprise.

A shout startled them all.

"Titus!" Peter yelled, pelting to the man's side as fast as he could.

"Careful." Helen warned, but Titus himself engulfed the boy in a burly hug, ignoring her.

She smiled, letting a huff of laughter escape her lips. "All right, take it easy you two."

They both just sent her identical grins together, looking so alike that she laughed again.

"Dr. Magnus said you're gonna be okay. You are, aren't you?" Peter asked staring at the cast on Titus' leg in concern.

"I had me the best medical doctor in the whole world." Titus said with a wink in her direction. "Course I'm gonna be alright. In no time, I'll be up and runnin' with ya."

She scoffed. "I highly doubt that." Her tone was teasing. "But it shouldn't be too long."

Peter smiled and looked back at his friend. "Then, you and Terra are going to stay with Grandma and I, right? She said you could."

After blinking for a second or two, Titus swallowed and finally answered. "I think we'd like that." He looked over at his sister.

The young Ferabore smiled back shyly, nodding.

"I think Lilian would have too." Will said gently.

The smiles turned sad, but there was a nodding of agreeing heads.

"Besides," Helen added. "Terra must stay close to give the Sanctuary recommendations on the new preserve below her home town for the Each Uisge."

"One of the world's most endangered species of abnormal needs to be protected." Will said with a grin.

Peter turned to Helen. "The big one in the tunnels?"

She nodded seriously and it seemed the whole room held it's breath waiting for the boy's reaction.

He nodded determinedly. "Good. We need to make sure no one else gets hurt. Can I help?"

"I'd love that, lad." Terra answered gently.

Helen had to swallow thickly. One person with an open and loving heart could make all the difference in the world. Ethel had proven that, as had her son and granddaughter and now there was no doubt her great-grandson would follow in their footsteps. She hung a new IV so that she could have time to regain her composure, sure that Will was still watching her closely. The last thing she needed was for him to get worried about her again. "Dr. Wilcox will be taking over as your doctor here Titus, but he is more than capable of giving you the care you need. A few months of recuperation and I'm sure Peter will be dragging you along everywhere he goes once again."

There was a smattering of chuckles in response.

"Hello everyone." Declan greeted as he entered. "Titus, how you feeling?"

"Tired, but well." Titus answered.

"Good." Declan smiled and then turned to her. "Dr. Magnus, might I have a word? Just for a moment."

"Of course." She excused herself politely to the gathered group and followed him out into the expansive hallway..

"Magnus..." Declan started, dragging a hand down his neck, but hesitated.

"What?" She tilted her head, her gentle smile evaporating slowly. "What is it?"

"I-" He hung his head. His eyes darted around as though he was searching for a way out of what he had to tell her.

Which of course only made her more nervous. "Declan?" Her chest constricted. After everything else, what on earth had happened now?

"I just got word. I'm so sorry, Magnus. We had him under heavy guard, with no-"

"Who?" Though she asked the question, a part of her already knew the answer. She just didn't want it to be true.

He blinked at her abruptness, but answered quietly. "Lero... he's dead."

She stared at him. It was all she could do.

"They found his body early this morning in the locked cell where he was being kept."

Her vision faded black around the edges and a roaring had filled her ears. Unconsciously, she put out a hand to touch the wall to keep herself from stumbling backward. Oh, she knew without hearing any more exactly what had happened. John. Or rather, Jack. Visions of mutilated corpses and soft screams echoed in her memory. His hands, bruising her flesh. That damnedable knife reaching for her jugular. She found herself growing angry.

"He was killed sometime last night. H-His throat was cut."

"I know." She said dimly, trying with all her might to ignore that all too familiar sting of betrayal.

"You- you what?" He asked, perturbed.

She straightened herself. "See that the EM shield is reactivated please, Declan. I realize you have had it down in case of emergencies but I feel it's time to put your protections back in place. Thank you for informing me so promptly, I appreciate your thoroughness." She walked back into Titus' room without looking back, only breathing as deeply as she could manage of the musty air that always perforated the UK Sanctuary so that she didn't pass out. Looking over the readouts and Titus' chart, she immersed herself in the medical data headlong. Even the happy conversation that was still going on in the room didn't penetrate her ears. Once the her task was completed, she half-turned and found Will watching her movements. She shook her head. This wasn't something she wanted to talk about. Not with anyone but the person responsible.

It took all her concentration to arrange for their return trip home sooner then they'd been expecting, refusing to answer Will when he questioned her motives. Henry's rematch would have to be cut short.

When the flash turned the white paper in front of her a bright red, Helen wasn't surprised. She had been expecting him for some time, in all honesty ever since she'd returned home. It was why she had left the EM shield down. Immediately she closed the file she was looking over and met his eyes.

On a path toward her desk, John halted in his tracks. A look of understanding passed over his features and he smiled. It wasn't a gloating smile. It was filled with sadness, void of all mirth, like he was seeing only what he expected to see.

She didn't know why, but for some reason, that made the jagged ache of betrayal all the more painful. It forced a bitter laugh to bubble past her lips. "How do I always become so blind where you are concerned, John? Why can I never see what is directly in front of my face? You'd think after more than a century, I would have learned."

He shrugged one shoulder, at a loss for words.

Helen stood and came around her desk. "Why, John? Lero was in custody, he would have been punished for his crimes-"

"Punished?" John growled. His eyes glinted dangerously. "How? By giving him a roof over his head, free meals? After what he did to Lilian and Peter? To Ethel? To you? You almost died and he gets to live? No, that is not punishment enough."

"That is not for you to decide!" She retorted angrily. Disgusted, she turned away.

He reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. "This does not change what happened, Helen."

She yanked her arm free. "It changes everything, John. Just as it always did." A trembling scoff ripped past her teeth. "How long after you killed Lero did you come to my bedroom? How long did you wait after his blood flowed over your hands?"

He hung his head a little, but not in shame. It was as though he knew her response to his answer already. For a long moment he didn't speak and when he finally did, his voice was shallow. "I came immediately. The beast was sated, I was more myself. I would not have come otherwise. To be sure..." He hesitated.

"To be sure it didn't kill me too?" She stated bitingly.

"Helen-" He reached for her again.

Taking a gigantic step back, she stared at him. "I feel like a fool. That's what you wanted wasn't it? To get me to let you in again, even as blood stained your hands? Just like before." She would have laughed if there were breath for it in her lungs. "Were you laughing at me the whole time, John? Laughing at my lack of sight?"

His expression turned fierce. "You know that I was not."

"I don't know anything any longer John. When it comes to you, it seems I never shall. James understood this part of you, but I never have."

"I love you." He growled. "That hasn't changed."

"But it has! Even your love comes at a price!" A tear slid unbidden down her cheek. "One I _cannot_ keep paying."

He stared at her. His pain was almost as palpable to her as her own, making her hurt all the worse for it.

"Tell me John, did you ever have any intention of listening to me?"

For a while, he said nothing and just when she was about to repeat her question, he met her eyes again. "If I was free of this monster," he whispered, "I would have done exactly as you wished."

She looked him up and down. He was standing there, not contrite at all for what he had done. Not for murdering someone yet again. But he seemed sincere in what he had just said. "If." Was the only thing she could even think of as a response. Her throat strangled it on the way out.

He tried again to approach her, but she recoiled. His eyes themselves seemed to be shaking. Or perhaps it was just a trick of her watery vision. Her heart was screaming- Betrayer! Murderer! She had let him trick her again and a man had died for it. It tore at her and this time, she wouldn't let herself forget. As long as that creature was inside of him, she would never let herself falter again. There was a heavy silence and tension in the air. He came to her and she found she couldn't back up anymore because of her desk. Slowly, one finger touched her cheek and this time, she didn't flinch. She held herself in check- in strictest control. She prayed he couldn't feel the trembling of her chin. Sedately, she pulled away, tilting her face toward the floor and drawing in a shaky breath.

"For all eternity." He breathed near her ear.

She wanted to sob. Instead, she closed her eyes, but could still feel the spark of his departure, the flash lighting up her eyelids. There was silence then, all consuming and shattering as it seemed to echo straight to her very bones.

He was gone.

And she was alone. Again. Her hand covered her mouth to muffle the cry that strained past her teeth. Tears leaked out down her face as she held herself up on her feet with her other hand. Her soul seemed to be splintering again and this time, there was no James to pick up the pieces. No Ashley to give her long life new meaning. She was alone. At least until he decided to breeze back into her life again, turning it upside down as always.

Pressing both hands to her eyes, she forced the tears back and away, determined that she would shed no more tears for this betrayal. After the last one, she had spent several days in bed away from her life that was so empty and changed beyond all recognition. Now, though... she was too old for this nonsense.

The knock at her door this time angered her beyond all reason. Could she not have a moment's peace? A moment without someone needing something from her? She had nothing more to give! Flinging the door open, she barely glanced at Will's concerned face, or the echoing looks on the others behind him. Her voice was a growl. "Henry."

At the back of the group, he jumped, startled at the bark.

"Raise the EM shield. Put all our security systems back online and this time, keep them up."

Will opened his mouth, perhaps to ask a question, but she rolled right over him. "Will, I need the documentation for the counseling you wanted to assign for Titus, Terra, and Peter. Kate, you forgot to hand in your report from our absence. And I'll be busy for the remainder of the night, so please, do not disturb me again." She made to close the door as Henry and Kate hightailed it out of the area, but a large furry foot stopped her. Her eyes trailed to her friends. "Yes?"

"Everything alright?" He asked gruffly, eyes intent upon her.

"Bloody fantastic, thank you." She managed to answer tightly.

"We heard about Lero." Will said quietly.

That made her stop, her anger fleeing as quickly as it had surged. Sighing out a breath of deep exhaustion, she left the door open and turned away. John's scent still lingered in the air of her office, so she went directly over to one of the scented candles and lit it. Behind her, she could hear the rolling gait of one of her oldest friends and her protege, both hesitant as they approached.

Neither spoke, but a furry hand landed lightly on her shoulder. The message was as clear as if they had shouted it. It took all of her willpower not to cry in front of them.

Not so alone after all at least.


End file.
